


The Pacifiers

by Aves_Pruritus



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Babysitting, Buddy comedy, Gen, Other, Paragrade!Shepard, Prothy being a Prothean, Some headcanons to be mentioned, The galaxy's most unusual uncles, background FemShep/Liara, post reaper war, some language warning because of Feron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aves_Pruritus/pseuds/Aves_Pruritus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Reapers are gone, but the Citadel, after countless cycles, is still a thriving but chaotic place to be, especially if you're a Prothean amongst species you'd normally have on your menu.</p><p>But moreso if you have to watch over the galaxy's savior's child. And most frustrating when your co-watch includes the Shadow Broker's most trustworthy—and cocky as a cheeky pyjak—information Operative.</p><p>(Updates between a few weeks or a month)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Terminal Impatience

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-read by a friend from FF.net
> 
> Also, takes place around three or four years after the Citadel crashed after the Destroy Good Ending. Ah, well it's the future. I'm sure they'd have the station fixed in record time. 
> 
> Am I right? *nervous laughter*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lone alien on the Presidium Commons, Javik endures the normalcy before heading off for his latest mission.

They had given him easy access to many facilities. The embassies, not that he needed to see the ambassadors, craning their necks and masks and whatever served as their faces at him. The C-Sec offices, not that his assistance was needed nor was he willing to aid the officers. Even the more private lounges of several bars and clubs, but to have the Council and the rest of the Citadel think him interested in such squalor made his slit nostrils scrunch in distaste. Of course, many areas were still restricted to Javik, as they were to most of the denizens of the station, but the one he was remorseful about most was the Presidium lake.

The rapid transit console lit brightly as the ancient waited for the X3M that would take him to the Silversun Strip (the primitives—for all he was worth, Javik had yet to lessen his usage of the definitive noun—had yet to reassess the lack of accurate association the ward had to its given title) as he looked on at the widespread artificial lake, endless units of skycars overhead zipping their way through the invisible highway. The bright light serving as the scenic skyline of the station made the splashing water shimmer like a cluster of star systems shooting out from the fountains. He himself had never even seen the Citadel before his stasis slumber, and yet the waters flowed on cycle after cycle.

They told him years ago that there was no aquatic life in the lake, much to his disappointment, but largely due to the resources needed to maintain it. Even before what this cycle calls their Reaper war, people were no longer allowed over it even on low bridges, now replaced by properly-placed crossovers. A shame, truly, for even in his cycle, to walk alongside such a breathtaking display would have been better for his patience than standing in front of a console amongst non-Prothean species.

There was still remaining proof of the destruction on the infrastructures about the Commons, but the lake itself flowed on oblivious to that history, much like those who had survived the Machines' invasion that were not affiliated with any military body. They, instead, would rather pour out their attention to those that do not seek attention. Meaning if another minute passed by that the transit was not landing in front of him at that moment, the Prothean would lash out at the next passerby to ask—

"Excuse me, but are you an actual Prothean?"

Turian. Female. Civilian. Excitingly interested from the sound of her subharmonics. A new victim to his cold, four-eyed glare. And the eleventh person in that area of the Presidium Commons to ask what should universally be obvious.

"As opposed to a  _fake_ one?" He turned his body toward her, which was not easy with the armor he always wore, and tried to reply with as little exasperation as he could suppress. "Yes, mark-faced Palavani. I am indeed Prothean. What further proof do you need?"

The woman, white paint on an oak wood-colored plating over a lighter hide and dressed in Apien Crest 'civvies', as the old Normandy crew would tell him, flared her mandibles at him in shock. She quickly recovered and looked as flabbergasted as her faceplates would allow her. "I-I'm not from Palaven."

He neither knew nor  _cared_.

"Then do not ask questions whose answers are right in your face." By reflex, his arms crossed and all four eyes rolled at the turian female. In the corner of his peripheral vision, a group of different aliens huddled together and whispered amusingly, eyeing him and the woman with one salarian male exclaiming, "I told her she'd get sassed at." A sour expression from Javik aimed at them was all it took for them to stop smiling.

The turian shifted her gaze away from his scrutinizing one as her face became pinched and embarrassed. "I didn't mean to bother... M-My apologies."

Grunting, the Prothean was about to say something when the air above them was gushed towards the ground. Looking up with hardly hidden relief, he watched as the shuttle made its descent onto the transit loading station.

Upon landing, the automated car door opened outward for him, revealing black leather seats and a pilot's cramped control console illuminating the interior in orange rays. Without looking at her, Javik hastily shuffled into the driver's seat, three-fingered hands all over the modules to set his course before giving a quick glance to the turian female.

"No apologies required." Taking up his default expression, he turned away from her and the loading station with disinterest before the door lowered and sealed tight.

"Nor wanted."

As the skycar ascended and throttled away from the Commons, he made to look at the lake under him, the reflective light making even the surrounding buildings glisten like the arms of their galaxy. A feeling of conflicted fascination not shown on his face was felt throughout the ride as the ancient warrior maneuvered the transit to a specific place in the Strip.

Tiberius Towers.

 

·-—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

 

Although the shuttle interior prevented the Prothean from hearing it, Javik was well aware of the never-ceasing liveliness that was the Silversun Strip. After the Citadel had crashed over what was then a Reaper war-infested planet Earth, it had taken roughly two and a half years to restore the station. The Strip itself, unexpectedly—at least to him—was one of the first non-governing districts to be given attention to. A mere few months was all that was needed to make the strip thrive with incoming tourists and exploring denizens yet again.

Even the Ryuusei sushi restaurant was restored to its former luster, an endless line of clients outside the establishment almost daily. (Albeit its first taste of destruction had more to do with a genetic abomination, a legion of military rejects, and a commander who broke their fish tank than the Machines' assault on the space station.)

Pity. The Commander never bothered to take him with them afterwards. Javik would have enjoyed the aquatic cuisines. No absurdly complex food arrangement with inaccurate culture introductions needed.

The control panel indicated his approach to the next transit station. Pulled out of his musings, he braced himself for the landing and unbuckled his seatbelt at the sound of the air-pushed descent. As the automated doors opened up for him, Javik stepped out idly as the hustle-and-bustle of the district welcomed him.

Once more, he mentally commented on how the Strip was anything but silver; countless arrays of neon lights that had an entirely different spectrum to his quadratic eyesight, billboards glowing intensely with their own business advertisements—the one with the ludicrous hanar spectre movie earning his sneer—and the people. Where would he begin?

As he stepped out of the shuttle, no less than a dozen bystanders beheld him upon his arrival, not unlike how people would react if one of the councilors themselves had arrived. Like pyjak to a storage box, they ogled at him, soft murmurings mixed with the chatter before the X3M's door opened. Javik's vision spotted several of the supposed 'tourists' activating their omnitools to approach him for what they would call a 'group photo' with him.

_Typical primitives._

He nonetheless ignored every one of them as he made for a right and headed for the apartment building's entrance, the glowing green of the Tiberius Towers painting the pavement. A small commotion followed his steps even as the human doormen pushed them back, an asari furniture clerk yelling out to 'potential clientele' about their products. Finally, the last doorman before the elevators was between him and his destination.

Perhaps he saw the commotion from his place because the doorman took an extra ten seconds to look him up and down, scrutiny and awe blending into his inquiry. "D-Do you have an appointment, sir?"

"The Commander, human." Short and direct, like an order to attack.

The man feigned a cough Javik knew too well as 'acting casual' before activating his omnitool. "Oh, hold on, sir. Let me see if she's expecting—"

"I invited him over Rupert. Let him up."

Finally.

The ancient warrior raised his chin at the man and gazed at the intercom, the strong and fluid voice of Commander Shepard booming out of the still-blank monitor's speakers. "Commander."

Almost a moment too late, the man known as 'Rupert' got over his mental block to address the impending voice overhead. "You invited the Prothean up, ma'am?"

There was some fumbling from the speakers before the screen lit up, revealing the Commander herself from her apartment, a half smile and a purposeful gleam to her eyes. "Javik, my man! Hey, thanks for coming." As pompous as she greeted him, Shepard then turned to the human. "It's okay. Let him up, Rupert."

The doorman made a quick 'Yes, ma'am!' before he raised his omnitool after collecting his bearings, fingers tapping until the elevator doors behind him slid open. The screen shut off once more.

A nod as his own expression of gratitude, Javik set foot into the elevator, his digits already tapping the numeral pad for the Commander's floor.

"Have a good day, um, sir."

Before he could retort on the pretext of what a 'good day' was for him, the sliding doors closed shut. He exhaled through his nostrils. It was for the better; when one was the last of their own species, most days were never truly 'good'.

_"Javik? Can you read me?"_

His comm emitted the human Spectre's voice, more alert than a moment ago. The Prothean decided to cut to the chase. "You declared earlier today of an urgent matter, Commander?"

 _"I don't get why you still keep calling me that,"_ she retorted comically.  _"The Normandy's been under a different chain of command these days. I'm no longer a CO."_

True. The other human Spectre was given command of the frigate by the Council earlier this year. For what mission was only known to Agent Alenko and the Commander herself.

"I remain to call you as such," he replied evenly, "because of your still-present aura to the people not only of the Normandy crew, but also from the war effort. Do not belittle yourself, Shepard."

 _"Oh. Well, umm, thanks, Javik,"_  Shepard answered. Perhaps taken aback by his mentioning of her surname instead of her status, the Commander dropped the subject and moved on. _"Alright, you're almost up my floor."_ An exhale was heard through his comm before she continued.  _"Now, I'll explain everything about this predicament of mine. Can I trust you with this assignment?"_

Assignment? Not that he was never ready for such, but to be depended upon by a high ranking superior, even if it was Shepard, Javik took a moment to reply. "I am an Avatar. My whole existence is to be prepared and trustworthy."

The woman chuckled before continuing.  _"Now that's our man. You at our floor yet?"_

He looked at the panel indicating the apartment floors. "I am close, Commander." And as he said it, the elevator doors opened once more.

 

·-—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

 

"Again, thanks for answering my call, Javik. I'm just sorry it was at such short notice."

The Prothean sighed at that. "When has it ever been the opposite?" What resistance he put to not roll all four eyes at the words 'short notice.' Every other mission he went with the human Spectre was sudden yet direct. And yet he had a willing firearm always to aid her cause.

He was right to proclaim her an Avatar of this cycle. The title, though, was strange given her current state of person.

Commander Shepard's usual army attire was set aside in favor of something more formal. She was sitting on an ottoman wearing a midnight blue long-sleeved dress that stopped right above her calves, which were covered by white low-heeled boots. Even her hair was held back with clips he could not see. It gave her a superior yet elusive aura as the artificial fireplace simulation bathed her in an orange glow.

"You may have heard it from Liara," she began with a pseudo-professional tone, "but the Council's called me again. It's about their...offer. They, well, finally deemed me ready to take up the mantle of..." The human did not finish the sentence, beginning to groan and bend over, her slightly scared face covered in one hand.

"You mean they are insisting you become a councilor." It was a statement of fact, not a question. After the failed coup by Cerberus, the seat for the human councilor had become open as the war back then ravaged the cosmos, yet it remained so due to the galaxy's most favored candidate recovering from her injuries.

And her trauma.

The woman opposite him could only remove her hand and look conflicted. "Yeah. I'm finally racked up enough to negotiate. Liara's spent all week arranging the files and presentation we'd be showing to the councilors—"

"You're going to be a councilor, Battlemama?"

Like a beacon for her relief, Shepard turned to a child's raspy voice and chuckled fondly, though still fatigued. He also turned to look, eyeing the young krogan pup wearing an N7 jacket too large even for his hump, though about up to an adult krogan's thighs in height.

"That's right, soldier." Shepard leaned sideways as the pup took to hold onto the armchair. "Battlemama's ready to take charge of those whiny council people. Show them some quad."

"Ahem."

Both foster mother and child snapped their heads at the ignored Prothean as he stood and went over to Shepard, offering his salute. "It honors me then to be in the presence of a well-deserved ruler."

"Councilor, Javik. They have shared authority over Citadel space."

"And you would still fare better than the three others who did not heed you early on." Javik could not help the sour tone while addressing the three current councilors. And from the way he was nodding, the krogan child agreed as well.

"Anyway, Javik..." Changing the subject, Shepard stood up from her ottoman to go over one of the cupboards behind her. "Butan." She bent over to lightly bump her forehead to that of the pup's before adding, "Go on over to Wingmama and get ready."

As 'Butan' nodded and scurried his way towards the staircase, the woman continued her search for whatever it was eluded her in the cupboards. Javik waited patiently as Shepard's frame created faint shadows onto the furniture.

"Aha!" With a small cry of victory, she finally produced a large blue bag out of the now closed cupboards, laying it on the coffee table between them.

Inching closer to the table, the Prothean eyed the object with curiosity, taking the strap attached to the bag and feeling it in his hands. "Is this my new mission, then?"

"Well, not exactly. But you'll need it for this, um, mission."

At the decline of confidence in that statement, Javik quickly became anticipative as he opened the largest of the zippers of the bag, but not without sneaking a glance of how scrunched up Shepard's expression was. Almost nervous.

As he dug his hand into the bag, he felt around something soft and almost foamy. A feeling of dread crept up him but dismissing it, Javik went for another item, a light container with something liquid from the sound of light splashing inside, and took it out.

He could only blink timidly at the strange bottle containing what he could now see was milk.

"Commander..."

"Javik, forgive me for this, but..." Shepard feigned a cough she did not have before finishing awkwardly, "While we're out and Butan's at preschool, I need you to help take care of our baby and keep her safe."

If looks could kill an Avatar, then Javik's glare would have incinerated the Commander, who, for the first time since their meeting, looked unusually humble.

"You want me to..."

"To babysit," Shepard reluctantly finished for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Butan" comes from a South East Asian word, "butanding", meaning "whale shark".


	2. Familiar Yet New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feron is the Broker's top field agent. How hard could it be compared to his usual work?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Had to fix the first part because I forgot how solipsism worked for drell. Woops.
> 
> So, I got back to college after posting the first chapter. Been difficult doing this update between algebra and painting a make believe potato chips billboard design, ahaha...
> 
> I guess my updates will usually be the monthly kind, a miracle if it's less than a month?
> 
> I apologize advance for my weird transition from pompous to serious to dorky uncle jokes Feron. He's surprisingly the most varied in character among the known drell in the ME universe, both in-game and in the comics. 
> 
> And lastly, thank you all for the lovely comments, kudos, and bookmark this page got within the first week! I'll do my best to not mess this up. QeQ)/

_The air is warm, arid enough. My eyes take in the bio dome that is our home. That which is most drell's home._

_The downpour outside the bubble of protection makes no patter sounds as the civilians_ _—_ _drell, hanar, and others_ _—_ _enjoy their time in the Enkindlers' Harmony Park, near the shrines I know too well the manipulative truth of._

_A couple, contrasting scale colors, hovering over their children. One of which tugs at my jacket, chimming over and over, "Uncle! Uncle! Come eat with us."_

_I smile and grab onto his tiny hand, allowing myself to be led on to the table with foods I only ever receive on such a day as this._

_He like me also has multicolored scales, but with warmer colors. Colors that belong to his mother. Colors that belong to my sister._

_Colors that I wish of Kalihira would give back to me._

_Colors that ended up cold red._

-—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

The tugging of two small hands at his frills gave Feron a start, taking him back to the present and away from his solipsist state. Blinking a few times, his deep eyes looked down to see a blue asari child padding her tiny palms all over his face.

The baby began giggling merrily as a palm went to his nose and he looked cross-eyed at the intrusion.

 _'Why am I holding....?'_ The Operative inwardly asked himself, placing both tiny hands away with his large one before he remembered.

_'Right. Babysitting.'_

A movement to his left revealed a distraught and preoccupied Liara T'Soni coming into the room, a stack of datapads in her arms. She laid them onto a nearby work table, and from the neatly lined up weapon cache under it, was most likely Shepard's before the asari cleared it.

The sight of her caused the child in his arms to squeal in delight and flail her arms about. She probably wanted her mother to notice her, as with most infants.

He tried to steady her, hands careful around the ribcage and backside. "Wow." he vocally observed, "Little Feronica's so squishy. And giggly."

"Well, she _is_ an infant. And for the _last_ time, Operative Feron, her name is Daniqa."

Heh. Liara only ever called him 'Operative' outside of Broker assignments when she was miffed. Yet if Feron read her body language right, it may have had more to do with the pile of datapads on her work desk earlier than him deliberately naming the asari infant in his arms 'Feronica'.

The rainbow-colored drell pseudo retorted, "I still think it'd be a good name. With a good namesake, of course."

He had liked to think that the baby's laughter meant she had agreed with him.

"Mmmhmm." The pure-blooded asari, though not looking at him, shook her head. "Whatever polishes your scales, then."

"Now where did that idiom come from, I wonder...” It certainly wasn't drellen, probably a human's influence thanks to Shepard. Sadly, humor was wasted on the woman.

From where he was sitting on the bed with the baby, Feron could make out the strict form of her arched back as she transferred data after precious and encrypted data from several source materials into her omnitool. As messily as Liara had worked them in a rush, Feron understood her fidgeting. His employer/friend needed to prepare everything concerning the Council meeting and all else not involved.

"With everyone else engrossed with their own agendas..," the Shadow Broker began murmuring more to herself than anyone else, "we have few alternatives..."

That included friends and family's well being, which was where he came in. Oddly enough.

The Operative grew bored, sighing as he stood with the blue baby in his arms and gave the child a once over.

Daniqa—well, maybe that name wasn't so bland after all—was a healthy shade of sapphire blue with a light blushing of magenta near the cheeks, nose, and fringe. Apart from those and dusky heated eyes, she was the image of a tiny Liara T'Soni.

Made him attempt to imagine if the Shadow Broker was ever this squirmy and small. The thought made him snort and shake his head, wondering why Liara never fired him for all his cheek.

As Daniqa tried again to palm his face, he rearranged her so he was carrying her breastfeeding style and started humming. Not that drell breastfeed, but he saw enough human females and asari do it understand the mammalian concept.

"Ooohh....", the child swooned as Feron slowly rocked her in his arms, webbed fingers in her minuscule clucthes. She was both soothed and curious as the drell played a gentle tug of war whilst his subvocals made his clothed chest vibrate next to her head.

"So the files ring truth, I see."

"Those say many fabricated things about me." The bluff came out easily. He cared not for the small tug his lips made at being caught patting the baby as he could sense Liara step closer to them.

He continued. "According to the files, I was a Compact assassin", which he may or may not have been, had he not abandon it, "stole the personal logs of the salarian councilor," he made attempts, but the frog's comm system had more encrypted safety measures than C-Sec's security mainframe, "was a one-shot male pole dancer at Omega—"

"Feron!", the asari exclaimed, her expression and hands in the air like she was about to cover the child's hearing appendages. Or perhaps her own.

It was the most cringe-inducing memory he ever had. An incognito gimmick for a Broker infiltration (apparently, the pisspot station didn't say no to a little homme fatale), but the drell thankfully got fired just four days after when he nearly cracked open the plated hump of a krogan patron who was more than touchy-feely with Feron's posterior. Prying at the plating with the very pole he was dancing on.

Nearly half a decade and the drell could still shock the woman, more or less. "Now you know why I'm so acquainted with Aria T'Loak."

White gloved hand over her face, Liara took a deep breath and out as she next to him and Daniqa. "Oh, Goddess help me. What am I to do with you, Agent..."

The tug on his mouth became a true smirk. "Perhaps send me to Illium. Give me a more eventful assignment. Near the lower wards." Of course he had to use her own pun against her.

When her hand slipped off her face, her features softened a tad as she ignored his statement. "What your dossier had revealed to me years ago was your... somewhat out-of-character attitude towards situations involving civilians below the mature age."

That wiped off his smirk, but he tried to keep his attitude cool and nonchalant. He knew exactly what she meant, but instead played the dutiful ignate. "If it involves civilians, then it's usually to avoid being expose by—"

"One file speculated, " she added reputedly, a new mirth in her voice. "that you diverted an espionage assignment through different means because your target frequented an orphanage program. In Illium, of all places."

Trying to sway aside the Shadow Broker's knowledge was something he rather thought he was good at—even if it was Liara. However today the matron asari knew everything. She just wanted a confession.

“Liara...”

One she wasn't going to fully get, but slowly said. "It would've been rather...unfortunate for them if they knew their patron was a Blue Suns captain. The other option was blackmail and the old Broker was alright with it." A cough was squeezed in as T'Soni gave him the stink eye. "What?"

Her eyes narrowed at him scrutinized. Feron's subvocals were starting to rumble while he absentmindedly patted Daniqa more. Then Liara's eyes became smoky, curving with her own half smile.

"Am I to assume.." began the taunt he knew and dreaded would come. "that the Shadow Broker's top field agent has a soft spot for children?"

There it was. Right from her mouth and he groaned at it. The drell hated that term, 'soft spot', when someone used it on him for any means. But he hated it moreso for this specific yet currently unopened topic as he forced himself away from any early memories of it.

Gods, she may already have known, but it was more than that and he refused to speak of it. Not even with Liara.

"Sere, enough." He always used a male honorific on the Broker for safety measures, even with his aggravated tone. "I came here to protect this child, not recall any sympathy I have to the word." And with that, he hardened his gaze at her. "And I'm doing it for you not as an agent, but as a friend."

The last word in there had so little restraint that it surprised him. And from the look on her face, Liara was also taken aback somewhat. She was giving him that face where she knew she stepped out of bounds, even as the Broker herself.

"Feron... I didn't adhere to make you feel uncomfortable.", she started, inching closer to him until a hand went to his arm. And he was feeling uncomfortable and was starting to regret even being in the room with her. The asari child wriggling in his arms lessened it but not as much as he liked. Gaze began to lower and look at the baby but he could still feel her mother's eyes on him. "I can tell that this is something you need to reveal on your own. I'm sorry for putting you in this position."

Is she dropping the subject? Feron certainly hoped so. He closed his eyes and sighed, letting his body loosen and sat on the bed once more while the rocking the child again. He felt the bed sink furthermore as Liara sat next to him.

The relatively young matron's voice warmed up back to the tone she had when they first became a team since Omega. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't look into it further. I wanted you to tell me on your own."

In a way, it did lift his mood. He kept his lips sealed still, but raised his head to look up at his friend's biotic blue eyes, searching for something he already found. "Maybe not now, but if you want..." his voice was a mere rumble even as his face formed a suddenly tired smile. "If anyone deserves to know, it's the old nerd staring at me now—hey!"

He couldn't help but laugh after Liara nudged him hard at being called an 'old nerd'. But even then, she snorted at it, standing up to cross her arms in front of him.

 _"And if you_ want, Operative," looking down at him with a superior air, "There's a corrupt shipment adviser in Noveria who's chilled day you could turn the heat up for after all this."

By sheer timing, the baby started laughing back at them like she would have enjoyed the idea of the reptilian man freezing his ass off on such a miserably cold planet, cool as the smug expression Liara gave him afterwards.

Of course he had to return the mocking face. "You always send me to the nicest missions, boss."

Her mouth parted to reply but was interrupted by the room's door sliding open. Both adults looked on to see the little krogan kid from before, except now a hood was fully covering his hump in a peculiar way. The red on white strip gave clue to who the hoodie belonged to.

"Good morning, Wingmama.", the child greeted as he went over to Liara, making a pleased rumbling sound as the matron bent over to embrace the child before planting what he assumed was an instinctively mild head butt on his forehead.

Liara then led the kid to the bed where Feron and the baby was and sat next to him. "Feron, you remember Butan, don't you?"

At the introduction, the kid angled his widely parted eyes at the drell, curiously skimming from him to the now-drooling Daniqa in his arms.

He brought back the look with a nod. Of course he remembered. After all, he was the one who informed the Shadow Broker of the orphaned krogan in the first place. Also, only the Shepard-T'Soni couple were crazy enough to adopt a krogan orphan right off the bat. That was how the metaphor went, did it not?

"Ah, yes.", he began, leaning over while balancing the baby in his arms, feigned skepticism, "I believe we were introduced at that welcoming party Shepard threw for him."

He then amusingly gazed at the boy again, his tone playful. "You talked to almost everyone present. I didn't know krogan children could learn so quickly compared to..." Once more, Daniqa was timely at her interruptions, as well as precise with his point as she started blowing bubbles with her spit. Wasn't she too young for the universe to use her for coincidental effect?

"Who... Ooooooh.", Butan threw his head back while cooing. "You were that man at the game table near Battlemama's station.", he said with mirth in his tone, but then narrowed his eyes at him. "You kept hiding your playing cards in your pockets. That made your grown-up playmates lose their credits and say some weird words like 'Fu—'"

"Alright, umm. Let's get things back in schedule.", Liara interrupted, clearly wanting the topic changed and gave Butan a once over while brushing off nonexisting dust from the hoodie. "Are you ready for your classes, Butan?"

The child looked up at his foster mother with a face that did look more like he would have rather to forget the word 'classes'. "Not entirely....?"

The asari could only shake her head and say with a soothing reply. "I suppose with education, we never truly are, but...", she knelt down once more to Butan's level to hold both sides of his face to face her. "That's why it gets interesting." Again, she stood and strode over to the desk and picked up a datapad. "Why don't you go grab your bag and wait for Aunt Tali downstairs? Me and Battlemama will meet with you shortly."

So the quarian ambassador was coming with? Odd, since that would attract more paparazzi than what the Shepard-T'Soni couple cared for. Well, Feron could only hope Sera Tali'Zorrah knew how to handle alien kids. Alien kids who spoke too directly.

Slighty put at eased by her words, the krogan pup nodded obediently though not entirely fond of the idea of school yet, like most children. He made to turn for the door when he suddenly spiralled back to face her and Feron both with excited eyes. "Oh right! Battlemama's talking with Mister Prothean downstairs, Wingmama!"

That sparked the asari mother's alertness. "Oh Goddess, I almost forgot we invited Javik to help!" She dropped the datapad she had not even bothered to type on yet onto the table to type away at her omnitool. When she activated a command, a whorping sound that was still damningly familiar which resonated through the room as the blinking light of an information drone lit it before bopping over to Liara and Butan.

The pup stared in—Gods help him—awe at the drone while the asari nodded professionally. "Hello, Glyph."

"Greetings, Doctor T'Soni, young Butan." He... It greeted the two before turning its optics towards him. "And it is good to see you again, Operative Feron."

A repressed frilled sound emitted from the drell in irritation. Great, Old Dronie was back.

Feron decided that it was time to mobilize, rising up from the bed with the baby making more coo sounds at the older aliens.  "You're not going to leave that thing with me, are you?", he snarked while leering at the annoying V.I. in question.

Unfortunately, the drone answered for the Broker with that obnoxiously polite tone. "Doctor T'Soni saw it fit that I be stationed here to assist your and Javik's caretaking of little Daniqa there." And to make it more annoying, Glyph floated closer to him. "I have been upgraded with the most trusthworthy of interspecies infant care guides and have had the most soothing of Thessian and Earth lullabies to assist in your child watching."

A laugh lacking humor escaped him at how much that answer made his job sound all the more ridiculous than it truthfully was. He had no idea how to handle the Prothean as is, now he had that glowing ball to follow him around? _Again?_

The drell gave his employer/friend a mixture of ire and defeat. "Yep. The nicest missions."

Liara only sighed at them all. "I have back-up drone to assist me at the Council's meeting," as she spoke, her omnitool as she typed away before pointing it towards the drone, the beeping of programming heard, "so if you need to contact me for any reason, just use Glyph to ping us up. It's under a protected comm channel, so you shouldn't be comprised."

Back-up drone? "Not that it'd make my job any less peculiar, but wouldn't it be adequate to give me the back-up drone instead of, um, Glyph?" Damn, he couldn't even bother to say the thing's name without prejudice.

Again, that drone spoke for her. "The back-up drone is being prepped up for field usage after its successful installation to our intelligence systems. The V.I. must be tested before becoming fully in concensus to Doctor T'Soni's usual work habitat.", the floating ball did some more of that too comical beeping and spinning of his before adding, "It also has been dubbed 'Glyph 2.0', after yours truly."

Glyph 2.0. Again, more lackluster chuckling. "Should I be pleased or bemused at this upgrade, I am not sure of."

But it seems Liara wasn't having any of it. "Well, best start getting used to it, Operative. I've got a presentation to help illuminate before I can give you the mainframe of the reinstallments. Omnitool up." He did as instructed, gently putting the baby down next to the pillows on the bed before opening his omitool's interface for a file transfer. His arm facing her, Liara swiped her hand around his omnitool, almost a minute needed for it to be completed.

"There," she nodded to him. "Command codes for Glyph, upgrades for data decryption and an isolated signal connection. You should be good. Oh, do you mind....?"

She motioned her hand to where he left little Daniqa, who was squirming slightly on the smooth sheets and making incoherent baby word sounds. Feron made a half bow to his friend before turning around to pick up the infant.

With the child in one arm, he made a half-hearted salute with the other. "Ready for duty, Sere."

An 'affirmative', was the asari's only reply to him before she knelt down to Butan's level to give another quick headbutt, speaking in an oddly cheerful voice for her persona, "And you go off to prepare yourself, little soldier."

When she let go, Butan turned on his heel to go to the door, being not too short enough press the door's interface on his own, although it did take a few tries.

The multicolored drell took it as his cue and was about to follow suit until a firm grip halted him and made him turn wholly to a haughty Liara's leering.

"You and I are going to have a little chat about your leisure ethics later, Feron." And as if adding to the uncharacteristically dark aura, her biotics flared through her eyes. "Especially around _my_ children."

And then she let go, face back to her calm composure like she didn't just threaten to warp the drell's molecules before typing in the command to disappear into his own in omnitool and turning back to Butan at the door.

Feron couldn't help but release a small shudder at what had occur. Sure, that was Liara T'Soni, the same nerd he met on Omega.

But then again, that _was_ Liara T'Soni. Powerful biotic, mother of two, and the _Gods damned_ Shadow Broker.

It took him a moment to get over the shock, but he finally decided to go and follow the other two outside. He walked towards them, Daniqa tugging at his collar some more, stopping right behind them as Butan finally got the doors to slide open...

 **_"What do you mean you won't do it?! You said earlier_ ** **_—_ ** **_"_ **

**_"I have told you already, Commander! I am a soldier, not a walking nursery!"_ **

**_"It's just one babysitting job, that's it! Why is it so hard_ ** **_—_ ** **_"_ **

**_"I came up here prepared for an important assignment, not being some child's warden_ ** **_—_ ** **_"_ **

**_"You just sit there and hold a bottle to her mouth! You don't have to do anything else!"_ **

**_"That is exactly why I refuse to_ ** **_—_ ** **_"_ **

**_"Oh, come on, Javik! You're the only other person who's free and trustworthy enough to call!"_ **

The rambling downstairs went on while all three people in the room paused to look at each other.

Javik, huh? He was told ahead that the Prothean would be joining him. Why and how, his employer never bothered to elaborate.

It was Liara who broke the silence. "Oh dear. I better settle those two down." A nod to the krogan kid had Butan hurrying over to wherever his things were before the asari faced him and the blue child. "Come on, you two. Time to meet Uncle Javik."

They made their way out of the bedroom as both Shepard's and this Javik person's voices echoed throughout the entire apartment.

He inwardly snorted. _'Oh yeah. The nicest missions...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed: did this fic chapter look longer than the first?? Oops....
> 
> Daniqa came from 'Danica' meaning 'morning star'. Has a really sappy explanation at the end of the story.
> 
> Also, yeah. I'm trying to come up with a unique explanation on how Liara became a matron early. Even had this whole story in my head about the Shepard-T'Soni couple post-Reaper war, I guess?
> 
> Advance Merry Christmas, if I don't update before then!


	3. Finding Out The Hard Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After he was told of his 'new mission', Javik reacts abrasively. Can Shepard convince him otherwise?

He, an Avatar of the great Prothean Empire. Born into an era of advancement and warfare. Commandeered the Innason Battalion, of whom he himself abolished after his team's indoctrination revealed. A with-stander against the betrayal of the Indoctrinated at what is now known as Eden Prime. The last voice of his people when the Old Machines met their demise.

To watch over a contemporary era milk drinker not even past a year old?

How unheard of!

And he would not have it. "You can consume all the oxygen the station has to disperse off, Commander, but no amount of your insistence will convince me that this is necessary."

"And just how _exactly_ ," the spat out reply from the woman began, fist holding the child care baggage from earlier shaking at every ground out word, "is not keeping an eye or two on my daughter not _necessary_ , oh illustrious Avatar?"

She—did the Commander just mocked his title? "Do not test my patience, Shepard."

He once again attempted to depart through the outside porch, but the human Spectre tossed the bag near his feet, blockaded his exit,  and standing affront with her omnitool arm up rigidly.

"And you best not test mine.", the Commander's tone went on abrasive, yet remained civil.

That alone gave the ancient a handful of red flags, mostly because the Spectre used such anger towards her targets or on an interrogation. It wasn't that he feared her—such abrasiveness gained her his respect and allegiance —but it could be translated into her 'giving them the chance to surrender before she would choose to shoot their craniums off' with the more stable cases.

Anything beyond that border meant an assuring, literal, dead end.

A three-fingered hand went to squeeze at the nasal bridge under his eyes. "In truth, Commander, I'd rather not test you. I only fail to see how my presence is necessary in this matter. I," it took him a moment to find the right term for it, "do not bode well under such...domesticated environments."

It seemed his choice of words rung right as Shepard loss some tension, but retained her position. A grunt barely was heard from her before she spoke, "Look, Javik. Had it been _any_ _other_ day, _any_ _other_ situation, and with something not incapable of walking yet, we'd have acquired a different watch."

"However, being this agenda is what it is, we have contacted you instead." A different yet familiar female voice reciprocated further.

Years ago, such a tone would have earned the speaker his indifference. Perhaps a nonchalant retort on shortsightedness on the asari's part. Now, having witnessed the years change those around him, Javik instead half turned to face Liara with as much familiar professionalism he could muster after his outburst.

"Hello, Lieutenant Javik. You're accommodating rather well.", the young matron acknowledged with...is that amusement in her cerulean eyes?

He resisted shaking his head at that out of consideration and greeted back with a nod. "Doctor T'Soni. You appear...over-occupied."

As the woman shuffled forward, it took a moment for the Prothean to take notice of another person behind her.

Drell, if his memory served him right. Near the middle of his life. Multi-collred scaling. Something—or someone, he self-corrected—was craddled in the reptilian's arms. An...infant.

Shepard and Liara's, he recalls. A younger, softer face of the matron's but the heated eyes—restless curiosity—of the Commander's. As the child began to toy with the handler's collar, the drell gently swayed her miniscule grabbing, going rigid due to Javik's staring.

Ah, he recalled him: a Broker operative, ranking high among Liara's subordinates. "And to your associate..." He waved a two-fingered hand aimlessly. "Your name escapes me, drell."

Liara appeared to be ready to intorduced her associate, but the Prothean raised a hand to stop her before speaking to the other. "I assume you have your own voice?"

Both asari and drell appeared unnerved, but both recovered immediately. The drell then spoke, subvocals laced with cautious formality. "You may call me Feron, Sere. I've been, if lack of a better word, assigned to assist you with—"

What sounded like a close-mouth cough interrupted. All three adults and the infant turned back to the Commander. The asari child began beckoning to Shepard while Operative Feron struggled to calm her.

"Liara...", though fruatrated still, he heard the Commander interrupt, stepping closer to stand to his left as their eyes followed her. "Dammit, hon, I'm this close to pile driving Javik on the living room. You tell him why he has to stay."

He squinted all four eyes at her, confused and bothered by the buzarre idiom. "There will be no 'driving of pile' on Avatars, if you don't mind."

"What she means, Javik," the matron began, hands clasped firmly behind her with a flare of sensibility, "is that the nature of today's premonitions are crucially fragile." She began tapping away at her own omnitool, reading data without bothering to tell him what of. "Ever since the Council requested Shepard for this position the first time, she, several of our known associates, and I have been piecing together a proposal."

Suspicion arose. "A proposal? In what manner?"

The asari's face showed hesitation, signs to him that it was a subject perhaps not agreeable with him, but it hastingly shifted to something with more purpose as she continued to type at the omnitool's interface, finishing up before speaking to him. "I cannot really specify without risk of being compromised, but since the end of the Reaper war, there is still obvious signs of the aftershock. Some have been resolved, but others remain areas of concern."

"Concerns I've been waving the 'savior of the galaxy' card at the Council for to prioritize," Shepard all but dramatized the statement in annoyance, "but then if they _had_ , we wouldn't be gathered in this room in the first place." She finished the sentence with a mouthed exhale.

So the Council remained as incompetent and unsure as they were when he first came to the Citadel. Typical, but undesired. It left more questions that answers and he was less assured of this farce. "But what does this concern me? What is my role here, Commander?"

"You," as eager to get on with this as he was not, the Spectre answered, "are a Prothean."

"I don't remember _not_ being Prothean, Commander.", he mulled with mockery.

"No.", the joust was snappy yet had the tone of command." I mean, you being you. That alone is an asset in these times. No one outside our inner circle will dare take you away. Or to disgrace you. Or even question your muttering 'primitive' every five seconds because you're a living Prothean. Not to forget your military and field experience, but the minute someone even sneezes your way, it'll become galactic scandal because every sunova—"

Liara coughed, warning in her eyes, muttering about 'language'.

That caused Shepard to stammer, but she continued, "—every able bodied being would want to treasure their generation having a Prothean walk among them. And thus you, Javik," a finger rose pointed at him, all other eyes to it and himself, "are the finest vanguard to protect my daughter and my name."

All that about and for him. Him to protect their child. This...

The explanation gave him pause. On one hand, she just stated that he was like some prized tourist attraction, a beacon for aimless passerbys to ogle at. And on the other, he knew that his being the last of his people was taken highly but almost everyone alive today, but that any unnatural cause to his expiration could mean a diplomatic disaster. As much as he despised either points for making him feel like a scapegoat, Javik saw reason to the idea now.

All four eyes gave the Commander a hard, thoughtful look, attempting to spot hesitation. What he found was a strong reserve, daring him to object or deny her statement.

But would he?

The sounds of sliding doors came from the entrance hall behind them before he could voice out his indignation. He and the Commander turned to the hall just as the automated doors parted, revealing white lines decorating cobalt blue armor. The human male entered the apartment, but stood a respectable distance from the entrance as he saluted firmly.

"Preparations have been established, Commander Shepard." Spectre agent Alenko, if he remembered right, spoke with such readiness and a hard composure he had acquired during the Reaper Wars. It temporarily faltered to pleasant surprise when the man's eyes caught Javik's presence. "Oh, hey Javik."

Such sudden change of mood, the Prothean had to keep quiet before he corrected with a 'Lieutenant Javik' that would jumped off his tongue. "Commander Alenko."

"You're well." The biotic said offhandedly before turning back to Shepard. "Tali—I mean, _Ambassador_ Zorrah is already waiting with the other chaperon team. Say the word and we mobilize, ma'am."

The older Spectre nodded, a line barely curved into a satisfied smile formed. She then turned back to those within the living room. "Liara, go call our little krogan soldier so Tali can watch over him."

"Will do." The asari answered. Before going up, she bent over the small infant in the Operative's arms, kissing her forehead, noses, and fingers, then rising up to pat the drell on the shoulder before heading to the start of the stairs.

Javik's gaze lingered. He had never seen Liara being so sure yet rigid at the same time. He then eyed the asari infant as he palms beckoned to her mother's retreating form, a small whine lessened only by the drell's subtonals ringing to calm her.

"Well, Javik?"

He did not turn around, but he was aware that the two Commanders behind him were awaiting an answer. 

The words Shepard had used camr back to him. Was it truth? That no one important or entitled dare defy him or any associates a comely existence? Was that enough to ward off dangers, like some paranormal talisman?

As he mused, he noticed the child's stare. Young but curious eyes registering him without fear. He looked up and found Operative Feron looking as well, but for eyes larger than his, he could not distinguish the expression.

Those alone gave him his answers.

He raised an arm, palm open to the woman behind him. The closest to describe his voice afterwards was reluctant acceptance.

"Give me the bag."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And despite all the exams suddenly coming up, huzzah! New chapter!
> 
> Also, yeah. I decided to make Javik a Lieutenant here. He had to have some way of keeping busy aside from helping Liara write books (The Shard's been left untouched in this fic verse, so...)
> 
> This may look shorter than the other two, but that's because it WAS part of a longer chapter, but then it got too long, so I decided to upload this half as chapter 3. Hope that's alright.
> 
> February will be even busier for me than January, so I dunno how soon I can add whatever needs writing in chapter 4. Have a good day, folks!


	4. Misgivings Of Two Wannabe Uncles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two men settle down to watch over the baby, but with an ancient, stubborn soldier and a Broker spy in the same place, how long would that last?

One more perimeter scan. Another sweep of the district's networks. Double-checking the Tower's attendance list. Receive leads on potential Broker blacklisters.

Liara said he was just going to monitor the situation,  _not_  have her scrapwork passed onto him. He really needed to read her motives better before something less mundane might be put on his platter.

Having stationed himself at the war table, Feron had littered a handful of datapads and some childcare equipment next to the miniature Normandy. Atleast four datapads were clustered around a stuffed varren doll. He planned on arranging everything earlier, but after a hour of information sorting, his eyes began to tire and a small cluster took root in his head.

"You have received a new message from an agent in the Attican Traverse, Operative Feron."

Add that to the VI that monitored him back when the preceding Shadow Broker gave him a neural shock every other hour was playing secretary for him. This was  _not_  how he imagined his 'assignment' would be like.

Feron's fingers strained from constant typing on his omnitool while his tone grew less accustomed by the hour, slowly massaging his temples. "Again, don't go saying that out loud for the whole Strip to hear."

More of that fucking beeping—couldn't Liara just have the blasted thing change its processing tune?—and hovering before Glyph replied, "Noted. Shall I forward the message to your omnitool or catalog it to your inbox?"

"Inbox. I've enough files cramped in here as is." His statement was further emphasized when he opened a file folder containing data on the krogan population's pros and cons.

Shit, like he was a better judge at infant-mortality logistics?

"At your order, Operative Feron." From the corner of his eye, he saw the drone zoom over to Commander Shepard's work station, probably to deal with the message. After decrypting one more file, the drell made a mental note to check the Inbox.

"Operative, I must pry your attention from your station. This is urgent."

And the cluster stopped being small. He didn't even need to turn his head to be make note of the Prothean standing just to the other side of the table. The drell's throat began that uneasy chirping he wished would stop. Javik had re-entered and exited the room countless times about the baby—

_("Is this child sick? She appears delirious."_

_"No, Sere. She just needs burping. Here, give her to me." )_

_("Operative! The asari insists on devouring her own appendages. Is she—"_

_"It's called thumb sucking. Very normal for babies.")_

_("Drell. The child will not cease its crying. It continues to fidget at the monitors."_

_"Javik, in this cycle, we have what you call "cartoons" to keep them busy. Try the remote.")_

—he swore by his memory the Prothean was only looking for an out. That, or he really  _was_  that clueless about children.

Mistaking Feron's pause as a sign of dismissal, Javik insisted. "It will be but a moment of your time. I need your assistance."

"Of course you do, Sere Javik.", he answered tiredly. Gods, staying polite with that man was tasking. A new datapad in hand, he finally turned his seat and his sight towards the other.

It lost some camaraderie an hour ago, but the image of the Prothean standing at the ready, wearing a black, padded child carrier with the sapphire blue baby, Daniqa, strapped in with a pacifier in her mouth, was a sight to behold. Javik was aware, too, of the absurdity, his confident form betrayed by the constant clenching of hands.

He took another mental note to sneak off an omni-pictute of that later. For professional purposes.

The Prothean began, "I digress, it would be an opportune chance to accelerate the infant's biotics education."

He raised a tricolored brow at the other. Feron replied, skepticism mild. "Aspiring, but what makes you think Daniqa is matured enough for her biotics to—"

He didn't even finish the sentence before he felt only air in one hand. The drell lowered his gaze to find that the datapad was floating, no, being pulled away from him. The flat piece of gadgetry was misted away with a light biotic field and hovering slowly towards Javik's direction.

And just as sudden, the field disappeared and the datapad dropped to the floor. Feron stared at it, open mouth, for a good five seconds before darting his eyes to see Daniqa, small, stubby blue arms swirling with eezo blue streams before it took dispersed as she mewled, the pacifier forgotten on the floor.

"—manifest."

The baby continued the childish babble while her Prothean caretaker raised a hand, his eerie but unique green biotic field emmitting to lift the datapad and binky from the ground. It floated before slowly hovering into his still open palm.

Astonished, Feron looked from the baby to the datapad to Javik, who by the slightest gave an expression of eagerness.

"I believe", he reiterated, "she is capable of rudimentary training." His air of confidence persisted even as the child in question began sucking on her own hand.

The Operative was still dumbfounded, but figured he wasn't in a position to say how advance a potential biotic could be, being non-biotic. He set the items back to the pile, rubbed at the bridge of his nose before replying. "I, um, can't say I can argue with that. That was pretty impressive."

Javik, rather pleased, made to continue before Feron added, "But now's not the time nor place, Sere. We should inform Shepard and Doctor T'Soni when they're done with the Council meeting first."

The Prothean's face dropped its previous expression. A look of disappointment washing over his features. "How depriving, but I understand."

Feron almost felt sorry for the guy. He looked surprisingly excited by the idea of giving the child biotic lessons. They'd be alot more eventful than—

Both adults were startled—moreso for Javik's case—when the baby began to sob. It slowly escalated to full-on crying.

Her current handler grunted, patting the child as Feron before had instructed (almost every half hour, repeatedly), before turning to the other. "I have already allowed the child ten minutes of watching that mediocre krogan child program." His voiced sounded edgy, almost panicky. "What more does she require?"

Crap. That wailing was not helping his cluster. Almost jumping off his chair, Feron frantically went about the clutter of, well, everything on the table. Ignoring both the crying and Javik's constant pestering, he shuffled through datapads and baby toys until his fingers splayed over a plastic bottle.

"Okay, okay.", Feron gritted out before heading over to Javik. Daniqa continued to cry, but lessened it when she spotted the drell's hand, shaking the bottle lightly. Teary eyes looked longingly at the container, whimpering as her hands swinged to get it.

One more massage to his temples before the Operative unbuckled the child from the carrier. He lifted her, eyes motioning to the confused Prothean to raise his arms, arranging them before placing the small body in the other's embrace.

"Hold her, please." Feron instructed Javik on the proper way to hold her head, the gently placed the teat part of the bottle near the child's open mouth before the asari grabbed the bottle to suck away at the rubber nip.

The room less noisy, Feron allowed himself a tired smile. Thank fucking Gods. As the child drank, he beckoned Javik to raise his hand to the bottle, nudging it in lace of his own on the bottle. He then backed away, taking a deep breath and looked at his handy work.

Javik's four eyes were on the baby, both perhaps mesmerized and conflicted by what he was doing. "She....is calmed." He then turned to the drell, eyes squinting at him. "How is it that you know how to do any of this? An agent of the Br—"

"Eeeshhhhhh..." Feron quickly silenced the man's inquiry before he got to 'Broker'. Shutting the drone up was bad enough. He didn't need Javik doing it, too.

Instead of answering the question, he went back to his seat. Looking up, Feron's tone became dismissive. "Keep the bottle steady. Then, head over upstairs and place Daniqa in her baby crib. Pat her gently and continuously until she falls asleep. And do so  _quietly_."

It seems he understood, the other man nodding while mildly swinging his arms to rock the child about. Javik made to leave, but turned suddenly to retort, "Do not think this saves you from me finding out the truth."

Was that a warning? If it was, he didn't have time for it. Swaying a hand to send him off, Feron turned around back to the information pile he still had to sort through.

A 'hmph' and fading footsteps were heard before he sense the two's absence from the room. As he grabbed the one he put down earlier, an afterthought came to him. Activating his omnitool, he waited a few seconds before Glyph came floating back to him.

"Do you need assistance, Operative Feron?"

"No, but Javik does." Kalihira forgive him, but he sounded somewhat deviant as he ordered the drone. "Go upstairs to the nursery and play one of those Earth or Thessian lullabies you mentioned earlier. I don't care which."

After what sounded like the interface acting up, the VI replied, "Song playlist established. Would there be anymore instructions, sir?"

He almost bid the drone away, but he suddenly remembered his own mischievous mental note. "Oh, and take as many photos of the situation", he was probably going to get biotically manhandled for this, but he continued in his most calmed and professional voice, "before reporting back to me. And make  _absolutely_  sure Javik and the infant are in the shots. Are we clear, Glyph?"

"Very, sir."

"Good drone. Don't tell Javik about the photos. Now off with you." A very bad part of him watched with a devilish smirk as the drone zoomed away towards stairs before skimming through some data.

"Heh. Guess that drone was useful after all."

 

·-—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

 

Several minutes into countless Broker information came before the tricolored drell gave up. Throwing the current datapad onto the heap with abandon, Feron groaned out loud and slouched into his chair. It wasn't the type that reclined behind his back, but he reveled in the leather seat nonetheless. He screwed his eyes shut, tired from all that reading and filing.

That's it. That was the last datapad he was touching for the next hour. Shit, the last one in a _month_ , if he had his way. At that point, he was sick of the blasted things. To hell if his employer dumped more Broker crap on him.

Okay, maybe not. He needed to do this for a living. He still missed not staying in the same place if it didn't involve spying on a target, but it atleast he had help. Somewhat.

Shoving himself off the chair, he stood and stretched neglected muscles, the chaffing in his bottom from sitting so long and the cluster that turned into a migraine dragging an exhausted groan from the man.

Feron turned his head one last time to the stash of equipment, sneering at it before making his way out of the dining room towards one of the apartment's bathrooms.

"Headache pill", he murmured to himself. "Even if it's levo. And maybe some caf."

Turning to the east end, he walked until he was at the paneled glass fixture, spotting a bathroom to his left. With haste, he made for the doors, prepared to close it behind him as soon as—

"You are finished playing secretary, Operative?"

He didn't even bother to hide his frustration. Against his better judgment, the drell turned to face Javik, who was leaning, hands fused together and a leg crossed over the other, against the open pathway separating the dining room from the east wing. And from the bathroom he should have entered.

The migraine caught up with him again, making his hand to rub madly against his scaled face in a failed attempt to drive it away. He forced himself to face the Prothean, drilling eyes at the man's awaiting.

“Is the baby asleep?” He asked first, the Prothean nodding. "Right. What is it _now_ , Sere Javik?" His courtesy made way for blunt annoyance. He just wanted a headache pill.

The other untangled his legs to walk over, stopping infront of the displeasured Feron. Looking up slightly—wow, he was taller than Javik?—to ask in the steadiest voice, "I have an inquiry. Not about the origins of your child caring expertise."

Well, that was little relief, but still. He would rather not open up to the strange pre-cycle alien who wouldn't even call him by name.

Now it was he who leaned onto the doorway of the bathroom, nursing his forehead. "Fine. What is it?"

The Prothean studied him, summed him up before putting off handedly, "I see your brain has grown tired of Doctor T'Soni's little chore for you. Do you require aid?"

"I'll live. Thanks." He quickly deflected the other's insistence. "So, inquiry?"

"Yes." Javik nodded, more at attention now that Feron was willing to hear him out. "This Council meeting Commander Shepard and the others are attending. What exactly is it they're attempting to convince the Council of?"

Damn. He was hoping the babysitting junk would have preoccupied the Prothean enough to forget the meeting, or dismiss it atleast. Javik waiting for him expectantly for an answer.

"Conditions upon accepting Shepard as the new human Councilor, but Liara didn't give us the specifics." He lied through his teeth, even with the migraine still lingering, he did so calmly. Or so he hoped.

Of course he knew, otherwise he wouldn't have accepted the child caretaking job to keep the other man busy enough to not look into the meeting. But Javik couldn't know. Shouldn't.

"I see." The other's mouth curled into a frown, turning his head away in a look of contemplation. He sounded like he accepted the explanation enough.

"You were not informed fully..." Javik, his low voice laced with vibrating cold, "...or you were, but ordered to keep me in the dark?"

It was like time stopped between them, a void looming over them as his fingers visibly clenched on the bathroom opening despite his neutral face. This is bad. Worse than bad.  The Prothean didn't look turn his head back, but the corners of his eyes gazed at him with impending suspicion.

Hoping to fix the situation, the drell suppressed the headache and replied, "I'm only here to sort through raw information and assist you in taking care of Daniqa. Anything concerning today's meeting is beyond my protocol."

"Lies." Javik retorted threateningly, shoving his face infront of the reptilian while his eerie green biotics flared up. "Your pheromones told me before you even answered my inquiry. If you will not answer me honestly..."

He moved back just as the man raised a hand towards his arm. Perhaps too quickly because the Prothean’s stance grew more intimidating. Guess there’s no point in making nice now. Feron returned the leering look, body tensing to trick the man into the bathroom and a palm ready to activate the door override.  
  
“Tsk, Liara warned me about your sensory mechanism.” He jibed, ready to drag the man into the bathroom—

Suddenly, his body was slammed violently onto the tiled wall behind him. His body ached, the wind was pushed out of his lungs as he gritted against the hurt in every limb that wouldn’t move— _Was this a stasis field?!_

“”Warned’ you? So you are hiding something from me.” Javik grunted out, one hand keeping Feron pined with biotics ceased talking, moving a hand towards him.

 _No, don’t think about it! Don’t recall her orders_. Crap, his eidetic memory wasn’t going to be any help in this. He tried to struggle, but the stasis field didn’t allow him to move even an inch. All he could do was watch the man grab his arm tightly, forcing the urge of recall on him.

"Javik? Javik, don't you dare—"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were wondering, yes. Javik WAS talking about "My Little Krogan" XD
> 
> Aaaaand a cliffhanger! *DUM DUM DUUUUUM~*
> 
> Sorry this was late folks. Wanted to word this chapter right. Hope you enjoyed this one!


	5. Mutual Distrust Equals Eventual Trust?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Council negotiations, a hidden plot against it, and those staying at Tiberius Towers are unfortunately dragged into the shelling.
> 
> But first, things need to be cleared up for Javik's sake.

Councilor Sparatus eyed the info sent to his terminal with scrutiny. "Is this information properly studied, Doctor T'Soni?"

Liara opened her omnitool for the fifth time that meeting, queueing Glyph 2.0 to project several articles and footage. She turned slightly to Shepard, awaiting her approval to speak up. After receiving a stern nod from her, the asari turned back to the Council.

"According to Citadel system maintenance, a good number of the Keepers have dwindled in performance rate since the end of the Reaper War. In fact," more typing into her omnitool caused a video clip she acquired from the Broker terminal to play out from the projector, "there have been a handful of incidents where the Keepers, out of nowhere, would malfunction, in a sense. And rather than disintegrate into protein, they've reacted disheveled."

_"Reacted?"_ Councilor Tevos voiced out in surprise. "Are you suggesting, Doctor, that the Keepers have become sentient enough to bolster reactions?"

It was Shepard who answered that time. "Some of the Keepers are becoming aware, Councilor. They've somehow evolved to the point that they're no longer threatened by mere contact with other species, but they've also began to realize themselves existing."

She turned her head towards the projection of a Keeper, one minute doing its usual maintenance routines, the next, stopping its actions to look at its appendages. Suddenly, it began to scurry about its confinements, frantic and lost, as if forced to wake up in a place it knew little of despite it repeatedly maintaining the same shaft for years. Liara inwardly cringed at the audio's projection of the Keeper's panic.

Eyes darting from one vid to another, Councilor Valern spoke up. "Back during the Reaper Wars, we were, umm, given information on the Keepers' origins. An acquaintance of yours, Commander, I believe."

"Chorban? Yes." Albeit the original Normandy crew agreed to not speak of their encounters with the salarian to any officials, her Commander didn't sound surprised that they knew. "Pardon us for the intrusion on the Keepers, but our tampering—"

"Had no effects towards these sentinels, I know." The salarian councilor interrupted. "Oh, I'm believing your team's hypothesis more and more, Commander, but the solution you proposed." His voice, already high-pitched, hitched up at the end. "Do you really think it's needed?"

An answer was already forming on her lips, but the asari's omnitool beeped. Strange, it was a call from Feron. This soon? Odd.

"Pardon me. I need to take this."

Shepard nodded. "Go on." And with that, she proceeded with the rest of the presentation while Liara answered her comm.

"What is it, Agent? The meeting isn't over yet. Report to me after—"

_"Damn it, I fucked up!"_

That was unexpected. Feron may curse occasionally, but not outburst it in her hearing appendage...Wait, did he say 'fucked up'?

With a rigid voice, she replied, "Calm down. What's going on, Agent?"

The man sounded breathless from his end of the commline. Amidst swear words her translator couldn't pick up, Feron stammered, _"The child is fine, Sere, but the Prothean got curious. He subdued me with biotics and used his biochemistry crap on me."_

"He what?" Liara had hoped her reaction didn't echo through the Council chambers, but the audience behind glanced at her. She nodded an apology to them, especially to a worried Shepard, then excused herself to one of the benches in the gardens.

_"Sere Javik forced the perfect recall out of me. I couldn't move to stop him. He knows everything now. I'm sorry, Shadow Broker."_

Was it bad that she had expected Javik to lash out, she could not say. It was why Liara made all these precautions before starting the meeting. She just didn't expect the reaction to be so soon. "Where's he now, Agent?"

A grunt from his end was heard through the line. _"Fortunately, he began to contemplate on what he saw through my memories. It distracted him long enough for me to recover and pull one over on him."_

"Meaning?"

Somewhere in the background, the demanding thud of metal and the distinct cry of 'primitives' in a negative ideal made themselves known.

_"I locked him in a bathroom. Smashed the Overload onto the interface."_

Gloved fingers immediately went to the brink of her nose and squeezed. This day was turning out _wonderfully_.

"Keep him away from the Presidium at all costs, Operative." She ordered with the cold dictation a spymaster withheld, "The meeting is at its apex and we can't have him stomping over here and attempt to dissuade the Council meeting." Or use said angry Prothean as a political scapegoat.

_"Me against an angry biotic?"_ , there was sour laughter that followed. _"Sure. I do that on a regular basi—Urgh, damn it!"_

_"Release me at once, drell! This does nothing to hinder the confounded purpose of—!"_

_"Shush your mouth, jackass!"_ Feron hissed back. _"You'll wake up the dead, let alone a baby."_

This dawdle was getting them nowhere, and she had a meeting to go back to. "I repeat, Operative. Keep him out of the Presidium. Watch over the girl. And finally—"

"Umm, Doctor T'Soni?"

Interrupted, the asari turned to face a female turian, presumably a Council secretary that greeted her entourage earlier. Golden markings on brown plates, she faced Liara ay a respectable distance.

The asari kept composed. "Yes?"

The woman raised a datapad and typed away at it, talking, "The Council and your Spectre associates request your return at the meeting, ma'am."

The meeting. Right. "Inform them that I'll be with them shortly. Thank you."

The turian bowed slightly before walking down the stairs. Hearing the meeting progress, Liara began to go the other direction, but when she turned back, the turian secretary was handing another pair of datapads to the asari's bondmate.

Or it looked like the woman.

_"Sere?"_

The colony markings... Weren't they just gold? Liara squinted her eyes at the podium, at the similarly darkened faceplates of the secretary, but with white markings instead.

Calm but alert, the spymaster turned back towards the stairs, but the other turian was gone.

With one final tap to her comm, she instructed her operative further.

"Everyone is an undesirable, Agent. Trust no one."

   


·—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

 

After the call, he found a different bathroom to hunt for aspirin, that painkiller levo amino species like humans and asari took. By chance, one cabinet had a few pills. Feron took a handful, closed the cabinet, and went back to the kitchen to get some water.

The closer he got to the kitchen, though, the clearer he heard Javik's consistent banging on the bathroom door adjacent to it.

_"Insolent betrayal. I will not stand for this, drell!"_ , the Prothean's yelling was muffed by the metallic grate of the door, but the anger was rather clear.

Grunting, Feron ignored the protest and went to the sink, putting a glass he found under the open faucet to catch water. With two swift moves, he popped a pill into his mouth and followed it up with a gulp of water. Praying to Arashu that the pill take effect quickly, he placed the glass on the kitchen island before heading over to the bathroom.

It seems the banging had stopped, but Javik's irriattion was still heard. _"I sensed you're near. Release me now and perhaps I can forgive your insubordination."_

_What happened to that insolent betrayal crap he was talking about?_

He sighed. Being polite for most of his stay numbed him down to disinterest. "I'm not being insubordinate. I'm following orders. Orders that, mind you, were issued to prevent this type of reaction from getting worse." Each emphasized word came with the hopes that Javik would calm down.   


_"Prevent_ what _reaction?"_ , the man in the bathroom spat back, _"To the Commander's proposal to depend on the Machines again? To awaken them again? Because she felt guilt over their deactivation after the Crucible fired away?"_ The skepticism in his voice had bite. _"If I am to react with joy, then this cycle has gone defunct."_

"Well, when you put it that way..." He answered more to himself that the other man. Feron had to hand it to the Prothean for sounding so blunt but honest. Even he himself at first questioned why the remaining geth units stored on Rannoch were included in the equation. But regardless, letting his own opinions on the whole scenario wasn't why he was assigned here.

Deciding to cut to the chase, he chided, "The Shadow Broker had expected that reaction from you, nonetheless. And true, we needed you to be unaware but only until the meeting was over. You were going to be informed eventually."

_"So, you disctracted me with the inane task of caretaking a child?"_

The drell bit his lip, his reply hesitant. "Yes. But let me ask you this: with the undeniable problem of the Keepers at hand, plus the still visible repairs needed for the Citadel's restoration, do _you_ , Lieutenant Javik, know of a better solution in mind?"

For a long moment, there was no word from behind the metal door. Then, despite the softness, there was an answer.

_"Truthfully, I do not."_

Perhaps it was the aspirin taking effect, but he was relieved at that.

Abruptly, the beepings of a drone was heard behind him. "Operative Feron, the child is—"

He shushed Glyph before it could finish, already aware of a certain asari baby waking up.

Looking from the glowing drone, to the datapads and babycare stash, to bathroom door's interface, he groaned. An idea formed in Feron's head. Not the best one, but it was worth a shot.

"Alright, Sere Javik," his polite tone returning, now that the headache was gone, "I have to take care of this. And when I get back, I'm going to open the door and let you out. And then, if you'd so kindly keep your biotics to yourself, I'll explain everything to you. No more withheld information."

Not waiting for the Prothean's reply, Feron made his way towards the nursery.

 

·—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

 

A long time ago, Javik commented on how the apartment's bathroom felt like his stasis pod. Now, having been trapped inside unexpectedly and making a chair of the ceramic toilet, the tiles and marble room gave him another kind of familiarity to his cryogenic suspension.

The sensation of being absolutely vulnerable.

It was absurd, all of it. First, Shepard somehow convinced him to stay to watch over a child, then came the queasy child caring fiasco the drell dragged him into, and when he finally found out why he was subjected to all of it, the Operative locked him in.

Upon being pushed in, the Prothean tried to use his biotics to force the door open, but whatever material the late David Anderson had use to create the apartment meant a solid base for the doors. That, and seconds after the attempt, he realized that perhaps that neither Shepard nor Doctor T'Soni would have appreciated such.

But when the door does ever open....

It was a few minutes after the Operative said he would return to open the door. Javik almost went back to prying it with biotics again when the control panel lit back to life.

The door was opening. Perhaps he could still take control of the situation before Liara sends the drell more commands with restraining him. Briskly jumping to his feet, Javik collected a fair amount of biotic power around one hand, prepared to retaliate if Operative Feron ever attempted anything himself.

He watched attentively as the doors began to slide away. Arm raised to the entrance, the Prothean tensed up as the drell's leather coat came in view, then the door slide away completely and he was ready to fire.

"Jah-jee!"

The collected Slam on his hand declined in power at the appearance of the Operative, looking like he was the least surprised by Javik's hostility, with Daniqa wriggling in his hold. The drone was also with them, a lullaby being played.

Although his eyes did widen at the raised biotic arm, the drell drawled out, "Was it too much to ask you to relax and _not_ warp random aliens?"

Four eyes darting to and fro the drell, the oddly enough smiling baby, and his own hand, he closed them with a deep exhale and lowered his guard, biotics ebbing away. The Operative then moved to the side and beckon him to leave the bathroom.

As he exited the lavatory, the child flailed her thick, small arms at him while repeating the word she used earlier. The Prothean stared with confusion. "What is this child attempting to tell me?"

The Operative for all his worth eyed him with visible amusement as he handed Javik the infant. "She's been trying to say your name since she woke up." A chuckle came out at the Prothean's reaction. "Seems to take after her mother's, ahem, interests in Protheans and all."

After that, the drell left him and headed back to his station, gesturing Javik to follow. The man stared at the leather-clad backside for a moment, then looked down when he felt small, blue hands grab meekly at his chin.

"Jah-jee." Daniqa repeated, a palm near his nostrils before padding a lip corner. She looked at him with such wonder, her eyes owning the same heated sanguinary Shepard had that fateful day on Eden Prime. "Jah-jee."

_Small,_ he thought, _for an asari huntress. Perhaps one day..._

Javik properly carried her as he went to join Operative Feron at the table.

\----

"Bottomline, the keeper issue isn't the only reason to have the geth back, but it's the most afront one that needs fixing."

A good number of datapads were handed to him earlier as the tricolored drell had the drone project file after file, from footage of them fidgeting incisively to, much to Javik's lack of astonishment, news of economic and authorative imbalance between the Citadel homeworlds and the Terminus systems.

"So, you are saying that the machines are not just useful for their consensus, but their notions to be reasserted." He stated, not questioned.

He kept it from showning on his face, but Javik was beginning to comprehend just how the the end of the Reaper War had affected the galaxy and to what extent. Even he did not presume the hidden tension since before that were now a slow burn for governments. The economy even, where the quarians have somehow a foothold of now, is missing needed assets.

Those assets being 'improved' keepers, geth involvement, and the sensitive negotiations of acquiring a certain human for councilor.

The drell nodded patiently, hands behind his back, probably a show of neutrality, as the prothean contemplated on the array of info he was given access to.

Hands fumbling the baby carrier he once again wore, two fingered hands held the asari infant, the child mesmerized by the miniscule varren in her hold.

He inwardly denied that his hold was protective in any way.

"Not that I'm agreeing to any of this," he started, favoring his usual disinterested tone, "but how it is that any close associates of the Commander would be put at risk after all this has become more comprehensive. However, I do not", the next words left a sour taste in his mouth, "adhere to be a _liability_."

"Of course you don't." Operative Feron said tiredly, opening his omnitool to shut down the interface along with the keeper footage. His omnitool hand squeezed the bridge of his nose before pulling over his own chair, slumping onto it, and closing his eyes.

For the entire stay, he had sensed the drell's pheromones, lining with fatigue, believing then that it was due to Broker file cleaning when it turned out the stress was more about Javik's dangerous curiosity.

For a moment, they sat there, an odd clicking sound coming from the reptilian, then he sat up and opened his eyes to look intently at the Avatar. "I'm going to ask you, not as spy, not even as your watcher, but as a friend of this family. You, also, are a friend of theirs. Otherwise, I would've taken more drastic measures to keep you locked in."

A hard line formed on Javik's mouth, unimpressed. "Your employer is confident that you can take me?"

Except for the guarded aura he sensed, the drell's mouth quirked up in challenge. "You know, there're maybe three or four more bathrooms for you to settle into."

Half wanting to take on the drell's threat, he instead bit down his first reply to say. "I would rather not have to be reminded of my stasis pod."

As though amused, the operative shook his head efote looking directly at him, smile gone. "Look, Sere. I want to trust you. The Shepard-T'Sonis, Spectre Alenko, and Ambassador Zorrah obviously do, but that little stunt you and I did was unacceptable. Hell, I bet I'll get told off after my last report, but this is bigger than that. We're but standing by while real history out there is being made. But for that to happen, I need to be sure you don't force my hand and just stay safe with the baby."

Javik took a few seconds to let what the Broker agent said to sink it. He didn't feel comfortable with some of it, but even he was aware of how out of his element the prothean was.

He rose up with the child, looking at the drell, but down at him. Voice conflicted but steady, he declared with a nod, "I will keep vigil, Operative."

The drone, unusually silent for the entire talk, spoke up. "There is someone calling at the entrance, Operatove Feron."

Both men turned to the VI, said drell mused. "We're not expecting any company..."

Looking up with ocean blue eyes, the agent turned and nodded back to say dismissively, "Why don't you and Daniqa go play near the couch? You can use biotics to keep her entertained."

At the mention of it, the child began to play with a floating varren doll, biotics swirling it.

The drell sighed. "You can, uh, teach her the basics. Just don't go crazy." And with that, he walked away from them toward the living room.

Javik was left at the table, the child in the carrier holding the varren toy again. With an order to keep busy, he breathed sharply and let it out slowly through the nostril slits before making his own way to the sofa near the bar.

A cycle ago, there was no chance to be relaxed, constant warfare and mass genocide by the Reapers preventing his kind to even let his weapons down. Now he was being ordered to do just that.

Sitting down on the sofa, he opened up his own omnitool, studying the intel the drell shared with him a few times over while holding the child's varren toy with his own biotics to play a weak tug of war with her.

_When this is all over,_ he mused, _I will demand the most dangerous recon mission from the new councilor. I need a break from this quiet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend and I have been talking about how politics in-general work, but I'm pretty sure I missed the hammer with the rambling I did here. Ah well.
> 
> And yes, babies trying to form words and names like Daniqa did are a thing. I'd know. I helped raise three, not counting my cousins. XD


	6. More Politics Equals More Dilly-Dally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While politics are brewing, an ex-pilgrim and a biotic talk about kids. (Not in that way, mind you.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, before you read on, let me just say that I don't fully intend to make any accidental ships here. If they look like it, well, I'll let you guys imagine that they are. I ain't stoppin' you, but I'm not making them a thing in THIS fanfic.
> 
> Also, college made this reaaally late. It's near the end of the semester when J finished this. That, and Kingdom Hearts is dragging me away, being a goddamn Dark Souls for kids and kids at heart. QeQ
> 
> This chapter was longer, but I'm cutting this part out to be a small filler chapter until the latter bits sstart to sound better.
> 
> Read on!

It was odd, being one of the few quarians to be able to roam the Citadel without the need for a glass mask most of the time.

Without the visor, much of what was outside her exosuit was clearer in view without the glass' slight tint. The Council chambers' ambience, blossoms, fountains, and arched ceiling were much more immersive now. Whatever programs the geth had given her suit before that day on Earth were doing, Tali could still feel the effects.

The geth...

Just as the thought came to her, the young quarian abandoned it and returned to the matter at hand. Awaiting patiently for when the soon-to-be human councillor would need her assistance, Tali revised what had transpired to lead into this Council meeting.

After the Reaper war, much of the galaxy's technology, including every functioning AI unit, had been either jammed or altogether deactivated by the Crucible's energy pulse. She and everyone had tried to ask the rescued Shepard then what happened, but even after several months of post-war therapy, the Spectre wouldn't speak a word of it. At some point, they had given up asking, but as it was, the then-Commander was hellbent on reviving the galaxy's normalcy as well as acquiring as many of the geth units that fought with the Alliance and the Citadel's troops as they could and keep them locked away, safe from scavengers and anti-AIs still furious from the Reapers' monstrosities.

It was why, on almost every Rannoch city, the quarians had created enormous mausoleums housing thousands of geth units, with Legion's N7-donned platform at the heart of the new capital. She herself laid her unmoving friend onto the bed-like pedestal amongst its fellow geth. And why, at that moment, Tali was to assist as ambassador to the quarian people, and to an extent the geth, in reaching a consensus.

According to the machinists, herself included, Legion's central hard drive was blank of anything resembling an interface, let alone an AI core. It really did sacrifice itself for its people, but she wouldn't allow it— _him_ to be forgotten. Not by her people. Not again.

With a vote of three out of five from the Admiralty Board—Uncle Han was still suspicious of the geth while Xen voted against it because they wouldn't let her experiment on the remaining units out of caution—, the quarian people currently living on their homeworld vowed sentinel duty over the geth until they were permitted to even attempt reactivation.

It worked on EDI, who was reactivated almost immediately due to a landslide vote from the newly-assembled Alliance brass (and a certain flight lieutenant's insistence), so the geth still plausible for functionality, despite the Crucible's damage, should work as well. They only needed the go signal from the Council.

What better way to do that than have the most supported human candidate to make parley for the geth?

"You alright, 'ambassador'?"

Did she phase out again? She must have. Looking to her right, she saw Kaidan, standing ever at attention with his hands behind his back, watching the meeting from a respectable distance alongside her. Fitted in his blue and white Spectre armor, the human biotic gave her a glance that was less worried than the voice he used. Keelah, she almost forgot he was here, too.

Tali shook her head clear before replying, "Just thinking about how this meeting will end, that's all." It was half a truth and half a lie, but she continued softly, "Can you believe this? Shepard's actually _negotiating_ to reactivate the geth. Three years after the Reaper war."

The Spectre did a low whistle at the concept. "You’d think after winning a war, she'd have settled down some more. Hell, she didn't even slow down after her recovery." He sighed, almost content, before adding, "Now here we are, hoping her becoming councilor will allow your people to wake the geth up."

The statement gave the quarian a grim reminder of what her own father had attempted, only back then his research team were attempting to one up the machine race whereas Shepard wanted to offer them a compromise and be as they are: a people. She kept hoping she wouldn't abuse such an opportunity.

"Yeah", was her only reply.

They stood awhile more, listening to their ex-commander prove her point to the councilors. Her legs were beginning to protest out of disuse when her omnitool pinged. With her favorite _Fleet And Flotilla_ song.

The look she must have worn when the everyone in the chamber meeting turned to her was nothing to the look Shepard gave her: awkward concern.

"I...umm..." Oh, Ancestors! Why didn't she put her omnitool on silent mode? Her gloved fingers fumbled about the keypad interface to turn the music off before looking sheepishly from every person present.

That and she could have sworn Kaidan was snickering. Murmured 'That's a cute ringtone, Ambassador' to her without even disrupting his form.

She mentally put his name next to Garrus' on the 'shotgun target practice' list.

A cough was heard and Tali turned to Shepard as she spoke calmly, although a crack of a chuckle was made for a second before continuing, "Perhaps you'd like to take that first, Ambassador Zorrah."

Suppressing her almost visible jittering, the young diplomat made a quick bow and said apologetically, "Pardon me, everyone. I'll only be a moment."

As she turned to leave, Tali sensed the padded boots of the human Spectre following her. "I'll keep watch next to her, if you allow it, councilors." She didn't need to see their gestures to know Kaidan had followed her to the old spot where Chorban was scanning his first keeper.

When they got there, she did turn around to see the man's worried face. "Everything alright, Tali?", he asked.

All the restrained nervousness got out of her with an eye roll at the biotic. "Gee, Kaidan. I thought you'd forgotten my name. You haven't called me anything but 'Ambassador' since we met up again." Her hands were on her hips, feeling just the bit sassy by her reply.

For all his years of professionalism, Kaidan looked aback by her comment. "Oh. Umm, sorry, Tali. You've just been so busy being, well, an ambassador, and I've been doing more special ops since Shepard retired." He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, the brown eyes that looked back to hers looking for familiarity. "I wasn't sure if going first name basis was polite or not."

She couldn't help but smile sadly at that. True, being a diplomat for her people gave so little time to contact friends and family. She barely had time to message the rest of the old Normandy squad. It made the hand on her shoulder all the more contentious.

Tali looked up to the man and said, "Well, you and the others can still call me Tali.” The comment made her sigh, feeling nostalgic of her early days on Team Shepard. Before she became  the youngest quarrian Admiral. Before people started calling her ‘Ambassador Zorrah’.

“I kind of wish everyone else did, too."

Speaking of which, Tali suddenly remembered why they separated from the meeting in the first place and quickly opened her omni-tool. When the message received open, she barely caught herself from squealing and laughing through the echoing chambers.

"What? What'd you get?", confused by her reaction, Kaidan stepped closer to her and glanced at the picture on the interface.

The man snorted at the picture. "W-ha- _wow_. That's priceless."

She couldn't agree with him more. Before they had left for the Presidium, Tali had requested the drell operative watching over Javik and her figurative niece, Daniqa, to keep them updated on the situation. She knew why Shepard and Liara arranged it, but seeing the Prothean cradle the small asari baby with the nursery as a backdrop was really unlikely and cute.

"Oh, Keelah!", she said between giggles. She tried hard to soften the laughter enough so the Council wouldn't hear. "And Javik said he didn't know how to care of kids." She playfully wriggled her finger at the small figure in the ancient warrior's arms, already wanting to go back to Tiberius Towers.

Behind her, Kaidan chuckled. "Sounds like you're pretty jealous of Javik now, Tali. Can't say I blame you, though."

She almost went to deny his statement, but it was true. She wished she was the one taking care of Daniqa instead of playing nice-nice with politicians. The quarian scrolled down to find a video clip attached to the message.

Kaidan elbow jabbed her gently. "Go on. Lower down the volume and play the clip."

Tali couldn't help but toot. "Careful, Spectre. The cuteness might soften you up for your next mission." Lowering the volume settings on her omnitool, she clicked the play button.

_If I could learn how to be_   
_Half of what you think of me_   
_I can do about anything…_

She and the Spectre both stilled as they watched Glyph play a soothing lullaby while the Prothean gently uncharacteristically rocked her to sleep. Tali couldn't help the warm feeling, even when she had never heard the song before, when the tiny asari fluttered her eyes, falling asleep.

_"...even learn how to love…like you."_

She quirked a brow before turning to Kaidan, who sang the last part of the stanza. "Do you know this song?"

When he looked at Tali, the man seemed surprised before going back to his reminiscent look. "Oh, yeah. My folks showed me this cool animated show from when my great grandpa was a kid. A lot of the episodes had songs, but this one was my favo—"

"Hey! What're you two watching over there?"

Both ambassador and Spectre straightened up to look at their comrades back at the chamber's podium. While the two were idling, the turian secretary from earlier joined their friend and was handing her some datapads, politely trying not to eye Tali and Kaidan. Shepard was tapping her foot impatiently at them. "Are you two done yet, Ambassador Zorrah? We're about to proceed."

"Yes, Commander!" The jittery feeling came back to her as she closed her omnitool, but she recovered faster than before.

As Kaidan straightened himself to attention, he told her humorously, "We'll show them later."

She nodded, beginning their walk back to the podium. Another mental note: offer to baby sit next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you saw it, yep. I just pulled the lullaby from Steven Universe' "Love Like You", a song that really got me into imagining what Javik and Feron would be like while babysitting. Plus, the song would make more sense in the later chapters. <3
> 
> Oh! And thanks to a friend who gave me opinions on the first segment of this chapter, I might make another babysitting fic, featuring Tali, Kaidan, and maybe Garrus. Only, ya know. Fewer chapters and more ACTUAL babysitting. XD
> 
> Thanks for reading and giving kuddos!


	7. Set To Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While a Broker spy does, well, spying, Javik plays teacher for a day. He doesn't know how much it's needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am VERY bad at updating this thing. Gosh. 
> 
> Okay, so I realized while writing and RE-WRITING this chapter that I need to change certain details in the earlier chaptets. May need to get to those later.
> 
> Also, not beta read, so beware of grammar and spelling errors. QnQ)/
> 
> And now back to babysitting.

"Now, I want you to float around the two and take more pictures and footage. Again, don't tell Javik what you're doing or that I told you to do it. Understand?"

The drone's optics bobbed up and down as if nodding before answering, "Understood, Agent Feron."

After Glyph left, Feron studied the media the drone gave him while Javik had his little tantrum in the bathroom. He sent the data to Ambassador Zorrah right before retrieving Daniqa to confront the angry ancient. 

After all, he did promise the young quarian to 'send her any updates' on their situation. And after the face-off with said Prothean, he made very sure to comply with as much media as he could cram into the line. Not in any way as retaliation for the biochemistry brain mess he was subjected to.

The drell knew he going to get biotic-slammed if Javik found out yet he found himself not caring. For now.

Standing in front of the entrance, Feron's hand went to the intercom to see who this unexpected visitor was. He had a weird feeling about it, but pushed it down and prepared to see who was at the other side. 

The screen next to the door lit up to the image of a turian woman, dark plates with bright markings the colors he couldn’t exactly tell because of the lighting, dressed in business casual and what he recognized as the Presidium's embassy uniform. She wasn't facing the camera, standing at attention in front of the door.

"Shepard-T'Soni residence", he greeted through the intercom with cautious welcoming. "May I help you, sera?"

 _"A drell? Interesting."_ The woman's reply was on the surface casual, but even through static, Feron heard something different. _"I'm Machavell Anois, a representative of the Presidium Embassies. The Council has sent me in regards to retired Spectre, Commander Shepard, and her associates."_

A Presidium representative, here? The weird feeling crept back up as his subtonals voiced out discomfort. He pressed the button to reply. "The Commander and most of her entourage are currently in a meeting with the Council. Perhaps when she comes back—"

 _"Yes, we are aware of the meeting taking place at this moment",_ the woman replied with suppressed dismissal of his statement. _"The meeting is passed its apex and is well into reaching a favorable agreement for the Commander."_

He could feel his forehead scales wrinkling as he tried to analyze what it was she said. So the meeting's almost over? It was a handful of minutes since he called Liara about Javik's retaliation. They were still explaining the keepers’ dilemma by then.

"My apologies, then. I was not informed of its near closure."

Was that a snort he heard? From a turian? This time, though, Anois sounded impatient through her retort. _"Truly not, it seems."_

Feron gave off a bitter smile no one else saw at the disinterested tone before asking politely, "Then may I ask, sera Anois, why you are here?"

When she replied, Feron heard neither hesitation nor any lack of seriousness in her subharmonics, but it still left him suspicious as Anois said, _“The soon-to-be human councilor has sent me ahead from the delegates safety department, sere….”_

“ _Noatun_. Luka Noatun, sera“, he gave in what he hoped sounded like a charmed tone. No point in sounding too hostile and definitely no giving her his actual identity in case the representative was aware of the lingering Broker activities on the Strip. “Please continue.”

From the unnecessary amounts of blinking the woman did on screen, Feron assumed she was caught off guard by him. Even from the intercom, he could make out some interesting undertones of smitten. Despite himself, the small pang of victory turned his bitter smile into what Liara would sarcastically comment as a ‘Cheshire grin’.

Whatever the hell a Cheshire even was.

 _“Well, erm. Thank you, sere Noatun.”_ Anois continued rather flabbergasted but she recovered quickly enough. _“To continue, I was sent ahead to accompany the remaining residence of Commander Shepard’s apartment and fill them in as we escort them to the Presidium, as per ordered.”_

“Escort us, huh?” He tried to keep his own subtonals from voicing out his skepticism.

Anois stood straighter at attention. _“Yes, sere Noatun. With the councilors and your employer’s team reaching a consensus, news of the agreement and Shepard’s assessment to councilor will be made known soon enough.”_ She then typed away at a summoned omnitool interface and went on. _“You and the Commander’s remaining family here will be escorted with your own entourage for your own safety. Your employer will probably call soon enough about this.”_

They were being asked to go to the Presidium, then, for safety precautions. Why didn’t Liara inform him ahead on whether or not the meeting was almost over? And if it were, why not tell him directly that they needed to head out this time? It would make sense for them to mobilize and go to a more secure location, near the asari child’s parents, though. Tiberius Towers wasn’t exactly known for its fortifications. Still, this seemed too coincidental a visit…

He needed to make sure as to not make the person from the other side of the door suspect a thing.

Once again pressing intercom again, the drell tried to sound apologetically as he said, “Is it alright if I make a call for the couple? I need to verify this first.”

Anois didn’t look frazzled out at all with his reply, nodding understandably. _“Very well. I will be here to await any more instructions or inquiry.”_

-—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

"No! You must collect the energy into a ball, then release it towards the varren", for the fifth time then, Javik instructed with what he percieved as the most basic of terminologies to the asari child.

The child in question did have some resonating blue energy shimmering around her tiny fingers as she all but waved them enthusiastically, giggling at the frustrated ancient.

After a few of a biotic tug-of-war with the small Daniqa, the prothean's wary mind went back to Agent Feron's approval—to Javik it was approval—on basic biotic lessons. When he was a child, he was bred to be a being of power and discipline, so such feats to him came much easier. Hence why he concluded and acted upon the conclusion that the earliest biotic lessons would be best for the child.

Unfortunately, the small asari did little with his instructions. They were on the floor, a good meter from each other with the child care arsenal scattered around for training. Javik first had spent his time demonstrating the simplest of a singularity technique and pushed the tiny ball of biotic energy towards the stuff animals, causing them to float around the thing before it dispersed and had the toys fall on the carpet again. 

He had expected Daniqa to at least have a good collection of her biotic energy, but all her fidgeting and coherent baby speech did was cause disruptive waves to move any light object away from her.

These acts seem to have amused the child endlessly. Javik could feel her aura and sensed that she believed this lesson a mere game. 

Inhaling nasally, the man stood up, walked over and kneeled near the child, and raised both arms with both palms facing each other. "Look closely." 

Once again, as the infant curiously watched, the prothean concentrated on building up his biotics around the circumference of his hands, wisps of blue combining to create another singularity ball, too small to pull around the weight of a child, but enough to lift the varren plush and a binkie from the floor.

He lowered his hands and left the ball of energy swirl in place until it slowly dispersed. When he looked back at the girl, Daniqa cooed as the items fell back to her feet, mesmerized by the act.

The tiny blue head then looked back at him with her large dusky eyes, curiosity gleaming from them, then she looked at her own hands. _Was this it?_ , Javik thought bulstrously as he witnessed the energy flow out of the child once more and backed slightly away. _Has the infant finally a grasp on her potential?_

Almost mimicking the ball shape, the baby made a sound like she was concentrating very hard on the space between her hands.

_This was it! She is going to–_

At the sound of a fart noise, most likely hers, Daniqa cooed and giggled again. The blue energy around her arms dispersed without even collecting fully as clapped her stubby hands. Like she was entertained by the sign of gastrointestinal activity.

His people had no deities, but if ever one existed, Javik right then and now wished he could shoot their face in for disappointing him.

Sighing, he threaded towards the child. "You, child", he began, "are to be the first of my new apprentices. I deemed you fit to begin this training and will see to it you succeed."

More childish murmurs followed, but he continued. "And if you outlive me, so be it. I will make you a huntress."

It seems his speech had jarred the small asari. She made a sound of awe at him before sloppily clapping her hands.

"Jah-jee! Jah-jee!", the child chanted. "Jaaaaaah-jeeee!"

Hmm. Quite the chant it was, though that was not his name.

He had considered using his melding powers to pass on the physiological knowledge, but Javik had learned that he valued the family's friendship. That, and he was sure that drone—who hovered around occasionally but oddly enough did not pester him this time—would be alarmed by such an act and tattle to Agent Feron. No. He will teach the child with a more direct approach.

"Very well." Three fingered hands went to lift up the child, careful to hold her around the armor. One hand let go to lure the baby paraphernalia into a pile. "We shall continue lessons another time."

Daniqa answered back by looking at her reflection in his armor.

Typical primitive.

As he set about putting everything back into the duffel bag, the sound of leather boots entered the living room. The drell operative. Javik wondered what took the him so long as to leave him and the child alone for a decent amount of time.

Perhaps the pheromones of urgency filling the room answered that. 

He turned his head towards the man, but even his voice had some surprise. "You wear armor, drell?"

Rather, he wasn't surprise at the armor cladding the drell—Feron's leather attire gave way to a trench coat covering the ceramic plating on his body and leaving out his left arm, protected by scale-looking metal plating—but the need for him to be in it right now? And that was not to dismiss the calibrated Suppressor pistol he saw a glimpse of.

Something was amiss.

Unease lacing subtotals, Feron answered, "My employer had several precautions ready but hopefully this will just be that. Precautions."

"Precautions for what exactly?", the prothean asked, suddenly holding the child too close.

Feron's sigh came out like a grumble and it didn't sit well with Javik, but he remained neutral when the drell passed by the two to picked up the duffel bag. He also picked up the baby carrier Javik had discarded during the biotic practice and had the Prothean wear it again and placed the tiny asari securely.

"We're being escorted out, if you wanted to know.", the Broker agent said offhand while buckling the last clasp on the carrier. Not even looking Javik in the eyes. But his biochemistry showed he was on edge.

Escorted? "By who, exactly?" More information this whole operation kept from him. He kept a protective hand on the baby's blue fringe. 

"Wow." The drell raised a brow at him and chuckled. "You're really getting into this guardian thing, huh Prothy?"

Javik shot an indignant glare at the shorthand title. First that crippled pilot, now this cheeky pyjak? 

The Operative looked smugly at him before answering, "Relax. Shepard had a Council representative over to to pick us up." He spoke as he slung the bag over his covered shoulder. "We'll be moved to the Presidium before they announce the new Councilor—"

"Then they are successful. Shepard is now the human councillor?", the prothean interrupted as he with the child followed Feron towards the lobby. It also meant the Machines, as much as he dreaded the idea, were now up for reactivation.

"Is it your new hobby now to interrupt me, Sere?", the drell snapped back. So the calm façade finally crumbled. He took a deep breathe before picking up where he left off. "The Citadel representative is outside, waiting for us to be ready. They have a private entourage for us enroute for the embassies downstairs as we speak."

Javik detested the feeling of being coddled, but calmly said, "Very well. At least this whole farce can be done with soon."

Apparently, not soon enough. Just as they passed the kitchen, his nostrils, the agent's as well from the looks of it, caught a sudden stench that made them halt. When Javik figured out the source and looked down, the child started crying.

The amount of time it took for him to take off the carrier's clasps was so short, Feron had barely the reflexes to take the sobbing Daniqa from him. 

As the child balanced both the asari and the bag in his grip to soothe the crying, he turned to Javik. "I'll go deal with this. You go check on the representative." He made way for the bathroom he'd lock Javik in earlier and added of his shoulder. "Use the intercom!"

As the door closed in, Javik took a moment to stare at it. Again, how does that man know so much on child care? But he shook off the question as he made his way to the intercom. Activating the camera above the door, he had made to press the microphone when the live streaming before him stopped his hand.

There, in front of the door, was the dark-plated turian woman he scoffed at while waiting for a transit. At the time, he never bothered to notice her attire, but now realized her uniform did match those at the embassies. She therefore must be the representative the Operative spoke of, but that was not why the door remained close. It was the three other people behind her that irked him. Two of them lightly armored and all armed.

 _"Excuse me, but are you with the entourage?",_ the embassy woman spoke professionally, but Javik heard discomfort in her undertones. His quick eye sight picked up the small movement of her hand going to the Carifex pistol at her hip—

 _"That's far enough, Miss Anois."_ The first person, another turian female wearing a similar, probably stolen uniform, spoke disarmingly as the two behind her, a masked salarian and a batarians from the four-eyed helmet visor, raised their weapons first at this Anois. _"Don't make this difficult for yourself. Be a good girl and don't fight back."_

A growl emitted from the representative as she lowered both hands but kept them unclenched. As the other female grinned, satisfied, Anois scoffed at them _. "Guess that's a no. But you're too late. The new councillor already found you out and is having her family brought to a secure location one way or another."_

 _"I supposed my disappearing act rubbed off too anonymous for her Spectreness and her Broker bitch."_ The other woman bit off the last word, causing Javik to flare angry biotic energy at the insults towards his friends. It seemed like Miss Anois knew nothing of Liara's true profession as her hands unclenched and she took a step backwards. He had to keep his powers at bay while he listened to her aggressor continue. _"Aww, you didn't know? Figures. The Shadow Broker, though weakened, keeps her circles small, but I don't think someone so one tracked-minded as you could have guessed."_

The salarian moved forward, an illegal Harrier rifle in hand, towards Anois. _"As for your entourage, most of them are dead, save for the driver and well, you, who we decided to hold as hostage."_ The rifle barrel still aimed at the turian, he added, _"Perhaps you'd like to cooperate with us. Keep the little lap dog play you had?"_

 _"I'd rather eat Reaper guts than do what you say."_ Whatever fear held her was gone as Anois retorted back, a finger pointed accusingly at each of them. _"And how dare you?! We'd all probably be if it weren't for the Commander."_

He stopped paying attention to the three infidels after hearing 'Reaper guts' from a turian he debated on scoffing at. Javik stepped to the entryway and, expressionless, opened the door.

All four turned around to look at the Prothean who was glowing green. 

"L-Lieutenant Javik?" Anois started, subharmonics everywhere. "How did you—"

Before the other four could fully react, Javik had already moved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look. I brought back that one OC from chapter 1 somehow. Don't worry. I like her, but Machavell Anois won't be around every chapter. Doesn't mean I might not, ya know, put her back...somewhere. ;D
> 
> Also, YES. You got me. "Luka Noatun" is a reference to Bayonetta 2: Luka, who's voiced by the same guy who voiced Feron, and Noatun, that fictional town in the game. Can't have a Broker agent telling everyone who he is and all, so...
> 
> As for his armor, if you don't know about it, it's from the Redemption comics where Liara was first searching for Shepard's body before Feron bumped in to her. Hint hint.
> 
> Aaaaand that's about it for now. Half of the next chapter is already written, but I'm still finishing off my preliminary exams, so not much until...IDK, after New Years. 
> 
> Early Merry Christmas to everyone! And Happy Hanukkah to others! And...maybe Kwanza? Eh. All my place has is Christmas, so see ya next year! OwO)/


	8. Improvision Is Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biotic babies, moody Protheans, Presidium ladies, and terrorists. Nothing less for a Broker spy.

"...Yes, the turian representative's informed me briefly..."

"Did Javik have any recent outbursts?" Liara spoke in his earpiece in the digitally male voice needed to keep her identity a secret.

 _Under the mountains..._ , his mind absentmindedly instructed him, the back of the fresh new diaper laid out under the baby. A sprinkling of baby powder soon followed.

"No, the Prothean hasn't had any violent reactions since the bathroom lockdown."

 _Through the fork in the road..._ Mentally signing the limerick, he pulled the diaper's front over the blue pelvis. Little Daniqa wiggled and gargled baby noises, as she always did.

A heavy sigh. "The lieutenant was eventually going to find out. Not surprising, Javik has reacted unbecomingly. You have the tranquilizers in the bag just in case?"

"Yes, you have told me to be careful with the Prothean, sere, but I didn't need a tranquilizer, thank the Gods..."

 _And the two travellers meet up at caravan's rest._ Finally, the last stanza of the limerick done as fastened the adhesive straps to secure diaper. He next put back the tiny drawers over said diaper.

"And done! No, I was changing the baby's...yeah." Feron replied through his comm while picking up the tiny asari. He almost wanted to asked Liara if she wanted to talk to the kid, but didn't want to compromise the Broker.

"You seem to enjoy that part of the work a little too well, Feron." Even so heavily autotuned, Feron could hear the teasing coming from his employer.  
He could feel his frills reddening, bot answering that statement. He, Feron, most trusted Shadow Broker agent, is changing diapers and neutralizing Protheans.

The drell was so glad Tazzik, that son of a bitch, wasn't around to see it. Didn't need a mutant salarian jabbing at him now.

The tone from the other line said matter-of-factly, "The meeting, as you're probably aware of by now, is talking negotiations and planning. The Council and Shepard's team are in the middle of discussing terms of agreement for her acceptance into their fold. Now, before you and your entourage can continue on your way, make sure to secure the apartment."

"Everything's fine, sere." His voice sounded leveled, hopefully not alarming Liara the slightest. He lifted the baby into his arms and slung the duffle bag on. "Javik was hostile at first, but he's more than up to task now. I explained the situation to him properly—"

"Explained?", she questioned. "How much does he know now?"

Feron swallowed. It wasn't part of the plan, but what was done was done and he had to confess. He responded in his most tactical voice, "I showed him enough of the evidence needed. He doesn't completely dislike it, so he eased down."

The other line remained quiet for a few seconds. He took a seat on the porcelain toilet, awaiting the Broker's decision.

"Very good, Agent Feron." A wash of relief waved through the man, hearing Liara say that. "Continue your sentinel duty and keep an eye on your escorts. You all should arrive two hours after lift off."

"Yes, sere." And with that, he stood from the seat, a blue baby in toe, to exit the lavatory. But before he could open the autodoor, his comm buzzed again.

"Before you log off, I assune you put on your armor, yes?."

His fingers just roaming over the door interface but not activating it, Feron answered, "Affirmative, sere. Shepard was generous enough to let me store it in her footlocker."

A sound expectancy resonated rings in his hearing. "Good. Be wary, Agent. People could be tracking you. Be prepared to fight and defend if needed."

"Fight and defend?", the drell snorted even though the ceramic suit was fending off his paranoia. Gloved digits finally opened the hololock as the door slid open. "How hard can it be to babysit a baby and fifty thousand-year old man?"

_"Lieutenant Javik? How did you—"_

What the....was that Miss Anois? How did she—

He and the baby quickly exited the bathroom and strode over to the entrance way. The site that welcomed him was a dishevelled—and oddly cute for a turian— representative, a Prothean glowing green—quick flashback to when Javik biotic slammed him breathless against the tiled wall—, and the best part, three heavily armed, obviously unfriendly thugs right outside the porch.

Part of him just died inside.

"Feron." The Broker spoke up. "Was that the representative?"

When he finally came back to his senses, Feron tried to snap out if his twitching reaction when Liara rang through the comm.

For once, dear Arashu, can his day not screw him over?

Tightening his hold on the duffle, he replied "Yes. Everything's in order." The lie was so frequently rehearsed enough to cover his panic. "I'll call back in later." And before Liara could finish her protest, he cut the call.  
Because that totally didn't mean 'I so fucked up again', right?

"Jah-jee, ya! Jah-jee!", his little blue charge squealed in delight when she saw Javik. Upon hearing the baby, the female turian infront of Javik turned her focused on the armored drell.  
Anois looked at him the way a scared pyjak infant would at their mother.

"What.....", the poor woman started with her frantic subharmonics going everywhere. "What are...who are....can someone please fill me in on this? That asari lady didn't tell me enough, apparently!"

Despite the gods awful situation, the drell couldn't help but chuckle pitifully at what messy job he got himself into. Almost a half groan.

"You and me both, sister."

-—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

Not even a sweat escaped him as the Prothean used not even a fraction of his energy to put the three mercenaries in separate stasis fields. At the same, though, a million things highlighted themselves in train of thought.

Who were these armed intruders? Are there more of them and how many? Was their objected related to the Council meeting? Were they here to apprehend him and his charges? Did the drell even know about them? And why did he have to see this turian female again?

"Jah-jee, ya! Jah-jee!"

The turian and the drell began to speak to each other, but his mind only registered the small child calling out to him. While still retaining the stasis field, the Protheans turned his head around to glance at the small baby in Feron's grasp.

The threat of abduction and terrorists, yet the child eyed him with familiarity within the few hours she got to know the Prothean.

How typical. Curious, but typical.

He decided to enter the conversation. "The premise is simple, turian. Shepard is to become councillor, but she has demands that need to be met before that."

Anois let contemplative hum. "Politics. If that's the case, then these guys...."

"The demands are not in favor of certain fanctions." Him included, but he wasn't about to reveal that. "And now those fanctions want to get to the Spectre to change her mind." 

Javik paused, glancing back at the others and walking backwards towards them without breaking stance. "And as I have the utmost faith in my capabilities, we need to evacuate the premise. Drell!", he spoke urgently at Feron, "Advise."

The Operative snorted at him. "What. So now you're finally asking for my help? You're all grown up, Prothy—Yaouch! The heck, woman?!"

To Javik's amusement, the turian representative had jabbed her elbow at the drell's side. "This isn't the best time for laughs, Sere Noatun," Anois scolded at him. "And how dare you talk sass to a Citadel warhero?"

"Hey, I've known this _hero_ longer than you have," the drell retaliated. "And easy there! I've got valuable luggage here." He then showed the baby asari to Anois to prove a point.

The Prothean grunted at them and cleared his throat. "Operative! Now, before the intruders' accomplices can catch on."

He almost used the drell's actual name—Javik wasn't surprised he had lied about his identity—but that would alert the turian representative. He needed them both alert.

Spurred, Feron straightened out and looked around. First at the porch, then the turian female, and then the expansion of the apartment. After a moment, his face lit up. "Okay. Javik, keep our uninvited guests in stasis mode. Sera Machiavell, if you'll help me..."

The turian followed the drell to the display area with the plants, just next to the main entrance. From what he could see, Feron gave the baby to Anois before he proceeded to take out some of the plants to skim his hands around the floor grates.

Anois raised a brow. "Umm, what are you doing?"

"Shh." The drell continued his work as he spoke quietly. "After the Reaper War, many repairs and renovations have been made to this tower. After her recovery, Commander Shepard had her own proposals to it. Such as....," he cut off as his hands finally found a loose grate. A look of triumph decorated his face as he lifted it, revealing what Javik considered a solid escape hatch. "This."

Javik watched in bewilderment as the drell opened the hatch, revealing what little he could see of an escape ladder.

The Prothean remembered when he told the Commander of such an idea. It enamoured her at the time, yet he never fully inquired if she had went through with it.

"Spirits...", Anois gasped. "That human is so prepared."

That had Feron smirking before adding, still in a soft voice, "And that's not all. A certain turian general and a mercenary once rigged the glass panelling to protect Shepard from an attack." He motioned for the glass shielding the plants. "They disabled it upon her request, but I think I can—""

Hold on." Javik interrupted in whispers. He knew where this was going. "I was there when those two attempted such. It was flawed, as the trigger for it was a clone who had Shepard's exact DNA pattern."

"A what now?!" Her hold was tight on the baby as Anois exclaimed in alarm, but both men shushed for her to stay quiet. Still in shock, she asked frantically, "Trigger? Clone? When did this happened and why isn't there word of this?"

"Ahem!" They both looked back at Feron as he glared at then. "I was talking? Right, now. Yes, at the time, it was aimed at a clone, but if we get this right, then I can reprogram the trigger protocol so when this grate closes behind us, that reactivates the program and will be triggered by any living organism that'll come through that door. " He then activated his omnitool, hacking into the dormant security interface of the glass panelling without being visible to the intruders. 

It appeared as if all that occured was getting to the female turian. She kept the baby even closer to her now, even as Daniqa began to wiggle about. "I'm...really glad I brought a pistol here."

Javik approved.

At the same time, it seemed Feron was done with his hacking. 

"Okay! Done." He stood up immediately, then printed off to the nearest staircase.

"And where are you going, drell?", Javik inquired.

He could hear the reply from upstairs. "Getting your arsenal! I think the baby and the representative need better shield capacitors. And don't you miss your particle rifle?"

His rifle? The Presidium and much of C-Sec didn't allow him his weapons while he went about, but now he was getting back his rifle. Not that Javik was going to say no to being armed, even with civilians.

"Hey."

The Prothean turned to Anois, who walked towards him and eyed him abit."Yes?"

She then raised the baby. The little asari was pleased to be near him again. "May I," the turian started, "put her back in...uh, sir?"

Javik blinked a few times. In the turn of events, he had forgotten that he still had the baby carrier on. And again, he was welcomed by eager, little, grabby blue hands reaching out to him.

"Please do."  
 

-—•◘○◙○◘•○◙○◘○◙○◘•—-·

  
"Oh spirits...oh fuck...!" She exclaimed after the stasis field finally wore off. She caught her breath and inhaled frantically, trying to keep steady as her surroundings cleared up for her temporarily dazed brain.

The sounds of her crew were heard, both of them coming to from the stasis field. Brawler's four eyes were looking hazily at his digits while Specs was rubbing his eyes, blinking furiously.

Shit, when they told her to sabotage the council meeting, they didn't exactly tell them about the Prothean or the drell in the apartment. 'Take the baby hostage and shoot whoever tries to stop you' sounded so easy back in the debrief.

Speaking of which, the little embassy bitch is with them, safe and unharmed. Crap. She was supposed to take her out and use her as a cover, but now they know they're being chased. There goes their bargaining ticket.

"Hah.... Crap. Phantom, what do we do now?", Specs asked her breathlessly.

Good question. She couldn't hear squat what the drell was telling their targets. Couldn't even see what they were doing since the Prothean was blocking whatever view her paralyzed eyes got. The door closed infront of them. Nothing to do but wait for the stasis field to wear off.

Armored talons clutched the gun in her hands. Their employer said to come back with the baby or not at all. She's not about to fuck up a job.

"What else?", Phantom answered. "We go after them. The mission sticks."

Brawler came forward, his hands clutching that shotgun of his. "They could've covered enouh ground by now. We need to tell the boss."

She growled at him, bearing her teeth. "For the record, Brawler, I'm in-charge of this. Stay in line or I'll pry off one of your eyes out." Not even taking note of the batarian's glare, she went over to the door. "Besides, we couldn't been frozen long. We can still catch up to them."

The batarian grunted. "And if we don't?"

"Then the boss will have our head in a platter," Specs said matter-of-factly. "One way or another, we get that kid so the boss can do whatever it is to get under Shepard's skin."

"Right. We'll tell the others later. Now...", she spoke with a new vigor as she took out an EMP out of her pack. "Tiberius Towers is secure, but their doors won't stay closed for long. Back up, boys."

The other two did just that, backing away and bracing behind the wall leading to the elevator doors. Phantom secured the bomb and with a few clicks on her omnitool, it was ready.

"Everyone get ready." She ran over to her squad. One hand on her pistol, she raised her omnitool. "When the door opens, we'll enter and try to find them fast. Got it?"

Murmurs of agreement all around, she activated the EMP.

An electric charge surged the door and changed the door look from red to green before opening, the power overload damaging the hydraulics.

"What...there's no one there." Brawler spoke out.

"No shit, genius.", Specs drawled out.

She herself got out of their hiding place and indeed saw the appartment mostly dark and, unfortunately, empty of occupants.

The turian's subharmonics were murderous. "Come on, you two. Find any indication of how they got out. Quick!"

Guns braced, the three of them walked briskfully into the apartment. But only after a few steps, they heard a beeping noise.

_Shiiiiiiiiit.......!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I had most of this chapter written way back in March, but alot went on. College, hoise renovation, and then Mass Effect Andromeda took over my life for half of April and most of, what, May? QrQ)
> 
> Still, I wanted to finish this story, even with the new ME making me lose myself again.
> 
> Hope I get another update done when college isn't so heinous again.


End file.
